Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith
by SomeGuyOverHere
Summary: Commander Shepard has fought slavers, Geth, Collectors, and Reapers. Now a mysterious faction called the Sith Empire makes itself known. Led by Emperor Revan and the Emperor's Wrath, it attacks and declares war on the Citadel species. Will Shepard be able to save his galaxy from this new threat and still be ready for the coming of the Reapers?
1. Prologue: End of An Era

**Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucas Arts. This story is purely for entertainment purposes.**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Prologue - End of an Era**

* * *

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away...

* * *

Tython was burning.

The world that had once been a sanctuary for the Jedi Order's blissful peace was now subjugated to the brutal realities of war.

The Jedi, proud defenders of peace, bravely fought to defend their bastion against the dark legions of the Sith Empire with the assistance of the ever stalwart forces of the Galactic Republic. But even as they fought, the light of Tython slowly began to dim.

Halls dedicated to education and enlightenment in the Force were now filled with the panicked screams of terror. Once perfect rolling hills covered in emerald grass had been scorched to ash and devastated by constant artillery bombardment. Ruins of the Jedi order's sacred history were stained with blood and polluted with the bodies of Imperial and Republic alike.

Tython was no longer a planet for peace. Now it had become one of the final acts in the grand play that was the Great War, a final stepping stone for the Sith Empire's total domination of the known galaxy.

Though the Jedi fought for every inch of their planet's sacred ground their efforts were in vain, for they could not stem the dark tide of the Sith closing over them.

Imperial walkers, massive lumbering machines of war, stomped across the planes and advanced towards the last rallying point for Republic forces on the planet, the Jedi Temple. The massive four-legged siege towers raked Republic lines with heavy turbo laser fire, tearing up the ground and killing dozens of Republic soldiers and Jedi at a time.

Sith warriors and Imperial troopers advanced alongside their mechanized support, fighting with fanatic ferocity and zeal as they mercilessly blasted those that had survived the walkers and charged towards those who remained.

But even under a storm of red energy the Jedi remained defiant in the face of evil. With an awe inspiring cry a hundred masters, knights, and padawans burst forth from the cover of their temple wielding their brilliant lightsabers in a dazzling display. Together they crashed into the advancing Imperial lines and began cutting into their ranks. Lightsabers slashed off limbs and heads, bodies were thrashed or crushed using the Force, Imperial walkers had their legs sliced out from underneath them by their Jedi targets. The Imperials were reminded why the Jedi were not to be trifled with.

In response the Sith, the rulers of the Empire and archenemy of the Jedi, ignited their own lightsabers and made a counter charge.

Soon the battlefield became a scene of myth as Jedi dueled their most ancient of enemies on the sacred ground of their homeworld.

On the battlefield far from the clash of lightsabers, Captain Pierce and Major Malavai Quinn led a squad of Imperial troopers on a mission to flank Republic lines. Unfortunately Republic forces were heavily dug in and the two Imperial officers found themselves struggling to achieve their objective. A Republic soldier manning a heavy turret fired upon their position. In response they and their squad dove into the nearest trench.

"Damn! Blasted turrets are going to chew us to bits!" cursed Pierce as slew of blaster bolt flew just over head,

"We're not going to get anywhere with a full frontal assault," said Quinn,

"Obviously," mocked Pierce, "got any ideas Captain?"

"Just one, a flanking maneuver," replied Quinn without missing a beat, "let's circle around to the right and see if we can't take that turret out from the sides."

"Agreed," nodded Pierce, "Gantz! Medera! Koh! Stay here and provide covering fire! The rest of you follow us!"

The squad worked quickly, weaving behind cover and avoiding enemy fire with practiced efficiency. Of course it was only a matter of time before they encountered opposition.

Pierce, who was taking point, rounded a corner only to run head first into a squad of Republic troopers. Both parties reacted almost immediately, but Pierce was the faster draw. On pure instinct he raised his blaster rifle and opened fire.

Two Republic soldiers took blaster bolts to the chest and immediately hit the ground, the others scattered and took cover behind whatever they could find. Quinn moved to Pierce's side, giving support with his blaster pistol.

With both of them being accurate marksmen the Republic troopers fell quickly to well-placed shots.

When there was a lull in the fighting, Pierce released his blaster's power pack and reached to replace it with a fresh one from his belt when a Republic soldier jumped down into the trench beside him and struck him across the jaw. Pierce fell on his back, helpless as the soldier moved to finish him off, when a blaster bolt struck the man right in the faceplate.

"Lying down on the job Captain?" asked Quinn rather smugly.

"Just giving you a chance to catch up Major," replied Pierce as he pushed himself up, "dirty your uniform much?"

"A bit, but I have a spare."

Their bantering was interrupted when a familiar ship suddenly roared overhead.

"Well I'll be damned," smiled Pierce, "looks like we'll be winning this battle shortly boys! The Emperor's Wrath has arrived!"

* * *

"I don't care if the way is filled with landmines sergeant!" growled General Grahdar Wyklon over the COM, "you will find a way to advance to the Jedi Temple or I will have you shot for insubordination."

A veteran of multiple campaigns and countless battles, Wyklon rattled off orders like he was at a lectern.

"3rd Armored division, move your tanks forward and bombard the enemy from afar, focus fire on any Jedi you see! 221st, move on the West Tower and bring it down! 81st Walker, concentrate fire on their front lines! 25th Artillery, keep hitting the Temple! Bring their shields down!"

"General!"

"WHAT?!" roared Wyklon without taking his eyes off the holographic display of the battlefield "can't you see I'm busy winning a battle?"

"I-I'm sorry sir, but it's urgent," stuttered the nervous Ensign.

"Whatever it is I'm sure it can wait till after the Jedi Temple is ashes. Someone get me the 38th on the line right now!"

"Sir! The Emperor's Wrath has entered the system!" the Ensign desperately blurted out.

A hush of deadly quiet fell upon the Forward Command Center and the raging battle outside suddenly seemed utterly unimportant.

"H-his pilot reports that he will be landing soon," the Ensign added even more nervously.

Wyklon swallowed and nodded, "well done Ensign, dismissed."

"Thank you sir," saluted the Ensign before hurrying out.

"Where is Lord Wrath's ship landing?"

"At Landing Zone 3 sir, he'll be on the ground shortly."

"Very good, continue operations until I return. I will greet the Wrath personally."

* * *

Grand Jedi Master Satele Shan sat in the silence of the empty Jedi Council chambers. Despite the rumble of the battle outside and the constant shaking of the Temple's slowly failing structure, she remained still.

To the outside world she seemed calm and at peace. Internally however, her heart was a deepening well of sorrow and regret.

Sorrow that it would be her, as Grand Master of the Jedi Order, who would witness the beginning of these dark times. Regret that ultimately it was her choices that had led the galaxy to this point.

The truth was that all of this could have been different if not for her failure.

Her failure to save one Jedi from the dark side.

* * *

General Wyklon hastily straightened his uniform and brushed off any errant specks of dust he could find. When he was satisfied he went about examining the dozen Imperial troopers stand in ceremonial formation, waiting to greet the Emperor's Wrath. In the corner of his eye Wyklon saw one of his men skittishly rock on the balls of his feet and immediately called him out for it. Privately though, Wyklon could not fault the man for being as nervous.

He himself had met the Lord Wrath only once before and that one time had been more than enough to inform him that the Emperor's Wrath was not someone you wanted to irk for any reason. Anyone who did immediately found themselves...regretting it. Remorsefully Wyklon recalled that the last time he had been in the Wrath's presence he'd sweated so much it had nearly ruined his uniform.

For good reason the Wrath's reputation as the Emperor's right hand and chief enforcer was a terrifying one, throughout both the Empire and the Republic. Stories and rumors abounded of the Wrath's mythic powers and prowess in battle.

The Third Battle of Balmorra, where he single handedly destroyed an entire battalion of advanced Balmorran battle droids.

The Cleansing of Corellia, where the Wrath fought and defeated five of Corellia's Jedi Masters on his own.

The Slaughter of Sullust, where the Wrath led a single battalion of the Empire's best troops to conquer the entire planet Sullust.

But all of that was meaningless to Wyklon right now, he didn't care how many Republic dogs the Wrath had killed or how lauded he was by the Imperial people. Right now he just wanted to survive through the next hour of his life.

The Wrath's ship, a Fury-class Imperial Interceptor, had landed and the Imperial general cursed his luck as sheets of new dust fell upon his uniform. Wyklon swallowed as the ship's ramp lowered with a loud hiss of decompressing air.

Four Imperial Guards exited the ship first, their vibrostaffs in hand as they took up position at the end of the ramp.

Then, **he** came.

His steps made no noise as he walked down the metal ramp.

Wyklon remembered what the Wrath had looked like before and he was no less terrifying now.

The man was tall, enough so that he loomed over the majority of those around him. But how the man himself looked, even his species, was left a mystery due to the suit of armor he wore.

The Wrath's suit was comprised of a pitch black bodysuit upon which pale gray duraplast armor plates were placed over to protect limbs and vital organs. Sandwiched between the Wrath's torso armor and black bodysuit was an equally dark Sith tunic that Wyklon suspected was spun of protective armorweave. The four coat tails of the tunic were long and visibly swayed as the Wrath walked forward, providing the Sith with an almost ethereal presence.

But beyond the composition of the suit was the visage it conveyed. Just one glance at it and Wyklon saw a figure more resembling a dark specter of death than any mortal man. The overall theme of the armor was that of a humanoid skeleton. The abdominal plates strongly resembled a ribcage, the vambraces and finger pieces reminded him of finger and arm bones, and beneath the Wrath's Tulak style helmet was a mask that was clearly meant to resemble a stylized human skull.

All of it: the look, the feel, and the design, screamed of a being more predator than man. And that predator was walking right towards Wyklon.

Every Imperial trooper stiffened a little as the Wrath made his way down the ramp and onto Tython's soil. Even the Imperial Guard seemed to stand a bit straighter, if that was even possible. So paralyzed and focused on the Wrath was everyone that no one seemed to notice the slender blue skinned Twi'lek girl that came down after the Wrath and followed doggedly in his footsteps.

The Wrath silently strode up to Wyklon and came to a stop.

" **General Wyklon"** , the Wrath's voice froze Wyklon's blood. If ever a vibroblade could speak Wyklon imagined it would have sounded much like the Wrath. Each word he spoke was done so with subtle amounts of danger.

"Lord Wrath" Wyklon greeted with a bow, "it is an honor to have one of the Emperor's chosen here to witness the Empire's finest hour."

The Wrath simply nodded and continued moving forward, Wyklon followed after.

"I must say that I am surprised to see you here my lord, I informed the Dark Council that I had the situation well under control. We took heavy losses when we landed, that much is true. But there is no need for you to-"

Wyklon was suddenly hoisted off his feet by invisible hands. Their fingers wrapped around his neck, constricting his throat, and threatening to crush his windpipe.

No one turned to watch, they were all too afraid that if they did they too would suffer as Wyklon currently was.

" **I am not here to discuss your failures General, I am here on a mission of my own,"** with that the Wrath released his hold and Wyklon fell back onto the ground with a gasp, clasping his hands around his neck in relief.

* * *

Though secluded within the temple's council chambers, Satele felt his arrival as soon as his feet touched Tython's soil. His presence in the Force was like a hot nail driving itself into her mind. From him she could hear the blood of thousands crying out towards her.

Despite her oath to non-attachment, Satele could not help but let out a hushed sob upon hearing the echo of their cries in the Force. For while he had held the blade, it had been because of her that the blade had taken their lives.

Keeping them closed Satele reached up to wipe the moisture from her eyes. Mentally she reminded herself of her purpose here. Today she would atone for her sins, one way or another.

With great will and decades of practice Satele fell back into the peace of the Force.

* * *

The Wrath marched forward across the surface of Tython with purpose. Though blaster bolts whistled past his ear and geysers of fire showered dirt down upon his head, he did not activate his lightsaber nor did he slow his stride. This battle, though it raged around him, was far away from the Wrath,

The Imperials dying in the trenches were not his concern.

The Republic soldiers clogging his path were beneath his attention.

The Jedi standing in his way were nothing more than insects.

All of it meant nothing to him.

He had but one goal in mind, one target to hunt down, and nothing would stop him from reaching it. A dozen Republic commandos thought differently however. They positioned themselves in front of the Wrath and his small squad of Guards. Each of them was heavily armed and well trained, even a Sith Lord would have found them a difficult obstacle to surmount.

But he was more than a Lord.

He was the Wrath.

"It's the Wrath!" realized the Commander of the squad.

The Wrath did not stop moving and neither did the Twi'lek or the Imperial Guards.

"Open Fi-"

The commando leader was suddenly hoisted into the air and flung away like a rag doll. He soared over the battlefield, screaming the entire time, until he finally ploughed back into the ground and burst apart nearly a mile away.

Next, three of commandos suddenly dropped to their knees and clawed at invisible fingers wrapped around their throats. At the same time another four were dragged off their feet and slammed into the ground like children's toys. The remaining commandos had their bodies twisted and crushed in cruel and brutal ways, leaving all of them with limbs in unnatural positions.

The entire "fight" had lasted only ten seconds.

Without breaking pace the Wrath ascended the stairs up to the Temple doors.

Halfway up, three Jedi appeared to block his path.

"Not a step further Wrath!" warned one of the Knights, "turn back now and you will not be harmed!"

The Wrath's response was to raise his hand and blast the mouthy Jedi with the Force. The Jedi himself died almost immediately from the sheer strength of the blast, but then his body was sent flying up the stairs, spinning head over heels, until it smashed against the temple doors. The body then dropped to the foot of the door and moved no more.

The two other Jedi reacted emotionally to the cold murder of their companion. They activated their lightsabers and charged the enemy with heated cries on their lips.

Without a single order the Imperial guards readied their vibrostaffs and stepped forward to defend the Wrath. Amazingly though they were not force sensitive the imperial guard matched the Jedi blow for blow and block for block. The Jedi had not expected this and soon they found themselves outmatched in addition to being outnumbered.

Before long the Jedi were overwhelmed, one was pierced through the heart by a guard's staff, the other had her throat sliced and was left to bleed out in the dirt. The Wrath continued forward, unopposed, until he finally arrived at the Temple doors.

The doors themselves were massive twin slabs of heavily reinforced durasteel. Twenty feet tall and nearly a foot thick, even a lightsaber would have had trouble in cutting through. Much like its creators the doors were stalwart defenders of the temple.

But for the Wrath, they were simply in the way.

Instead of activating his lightsaber, the Wrath gathered his hands together and began gathering the Force between his palms. In just a few short seconds the amount of Force contained between the Wrath's palms was enough to crack the ground beneath his feet and cause the air itself to ripple around him. In a single graceful motion the Wrath unleashed all of towards the temple.

The temple doors, both 8 tons of metal, were blasted off their hinges and into the temple itself.

The Wrath continued forward and the Imperial Army followed.

* * *

Satele sat down on her knees with her back to the door, meditating at its foot. Many of the Jedi were now evacuating off planet in hopes of escaping the Empire. They were wise to do so, this battle was lost and nothing could save it.

Satele stayed because if she did not many more lives would be lost. Because she knew that the most dangerous man on the battlefield was only here for her.

If she left, he would follow.

So she chose instead to stay.

The doors to the council chamber were suddenly ripped open and off, interrupting Satele's meditation.

Composing herself, and taking a moment to brush off a stray piece of dirt from her robes, she stood and turned to greet her guests.

Almost immediately four men clothed in red armored robes bearing crested helmets and wielding vibrostaffs stormed through the entrance and quickly surrounded her.

One of them stepped forward and announced, "Grand Master Satele Shan, by order of the Emperor you are sentenced to death!"

The Imperial guard were feared by both Republic and Empire, but not by her.

Satele unclipped her weapon and activated it. The bright blue blades of her saberstaff sprang to life, bathing her and the guard in blue light.

"I may die today," she admitted with serenity, "but not by your hands."

"Take her!"

The like a well-rehearsed dance, the guards sprang forward. In a single glance Satele analyzed their attack and found herself impressed. Each guard had instinctively moved themselves in a way that complemented their fellow guard. Each guard had also attacked at a different angle, minimizing Satele's options to defend herself.

Any other Jedi would have been quickly defeated. But Satele was not just any Jedi, she was the order's Grand Master and she would not fall to these men.

Just before their blades could touch her skin, Satele dropped into a crouch and slammed the palm of her hand into the ground, unleashing a telekinetic burst from the Force.

The energy from the burst flung the imperial guardsmen into the air and left them dangling helplessly. Satele immediately took advantage of their momentary weakness. She leapt into the air and spun her weapon like a baton. Two guards died to her blades while the other two fell back to the ground.

Satele fell down on them like a bird of prey. Her targeted guard managed to block her first strike but was quickly dispatched by a surprise uppercut from her second blade.

The final guard attacked Satele with an expertly executed flurry. But Satele easily avoided her strikes, swept her feet out from under her, and cut her head off as she fell.

The entire fight lasted less than fifteen seconds.

"I know you're here," said Satele, "please come out into the open where I may see you."

She sensed hesitation at first, but that was quickly replaced by anger and confidence. She heard the unmistakable hiss of a lightsaber activate and then saw a blur of black and red headed right for her.

On instinct Satele threw herself back, a second later the Wrath landed in the exact spot she'd just been standing, his lightsaber plunged into the ground. Without even pausing the Dark Lord stretched out his hand and shot out a stream of lightning from his fingertips. Satele raised her lightsaber staff, twirling it like a fan. The lighting was sucked into her defense and deflected back at the Sith.

The Wrath batted away the redirected lightning with his hand and then reached out again. Using the Force he lifted some of the rubble that had fallen and with a flick of his wrist, sent it flying at Satele. The Jedi easily weaved through the missiles and even turned a few right back at the Sith. The Wrath simply brushed aside the return barrage with a small pulse of the Force.

One head sized rock managed to slip through, prompting the Wrath to catch it with an outstretch hand.

" **You're defiance only prolongs the inevitable Master Shan."**

He crushed the rock in his hand and Satele felt a small chill run up her spine at the sound of his voice. Carefully she took a small breath to calm herself.

"So it is you. I wanted to believe that it was not true, that it was not you beneath that mask, but there is no denying it anymore."

" **He who you once knew is dead!"** the Sith shot back venomously, **"I am The Emperor's Wrath! His chief executioner! And I have come for you this day Master Shan."**

Satele raised her weapon. "If this is the day I become one with the Force, then I shall embrace my fate willingly. But I cannot leave this world without first ensuring that no more suffer for my sins."

Satele got the impression that behind his ghoulish mask the Wrath wore a smug smile. **"You intend to kill me?"**

"I will do what I must," she stated plainly.

" **You are indeed powerful Master Shan. But you have no hope against a being who is wrath incarnate. For while I can match your skill, you cannot match my anger. In the end you are only a Jedi…of which I have murdered thousands!"**

"You don't have to do this!" Satele pleaded. "You can still come back to the light. You can still come back home. I can help you."

For a brief moment it seemed as though the Wrath's anger might subside. But it remained firmly planted in his heart and returned tenfold.

" **It is too late for that…master."**

The Wrath raised his lightsaber and brought its blade close to his face. Satele in turn made a show of spinning her saberstaff before settling into a defensive stance.

No more words flowed between the two. The Jedi and the Sith froze in place, their eyes locked on to one another. Though the temple crumpled around them and the ground beneath them quaked, they stood perfectly still, awaiting the other to make the first move.

To the outside world it might have seemed that the two combatants were simply analyzing each other. But in reality the battle had already begun. Through the eyes of the Force one would have been able to see the invisible struggle between the dark and the light.

Satele, a peaceful sea. Calmed and tranquil, she found her center and distanced herself from the chaos of the outside world.

The Wrath, a raging storm. Enraged and turbulent, he embraced the carnage of war and immersed himself in the hatred surrounding him.

These two beacons of the Force silently pitted themselves against one another, each seeking to unbalance the other and gain the unseen edge.

* * *

Sergeant Rolos swore as Republic blaster fire whizzed by her ear, singing the skin by proximity.

"Sergeant!" cried out her second in command, Corporal Dal.

She pushed him off roughly. "I'm fine!"

Those Republic dogs would pay. Rolos jammed her finger into her earpiece and screamed into it. "This is Sergeant Rolos requesting artillery barrage on grid Charlie-Romeo-Six-Three-Five-Two-Five!"

At first static filled her ear, then she heard a reply. _"Roger Sergeant, artillery request granted."_

* * *

An Imperial artillery shell struck the Temple, further destabilizing its structure.

The cracks that had spider-webbed their way across its ceiling finally reached deep enough and a massive chunk of the ceiling freed itself and crashed between the Sith and Jedi, drowning them in a sudden storm of dust and rubble.

But neither of them needed their eyes to see the other. Like a wild predator the Wrath pounced through the dust, his red blade raised high as he swooped down upon Satele.

The Jedi Master was quick to counter, she directed the strike downwards with her left blade while at the same time swinging her right blade up at the Wrath's throat. .

The Wrath saw this -expected it even- and quickly threw back his head, avoiding the tip of her blue blade by a hair's breadth. The Wrath did not hesitate to continue his attack. Together the two combatants became a blur of motion inside the sea of dust with only the light of their weapons to indicate the other's whereabouts. At times the two moved so fast that they seemed to phase in and out of reality.

With extraordinary grace and speed Satele attacked with an elegant thrust, the Wrath parried easily and struck back with an overhead swing. Satele blocked the blow and turned his blade away, attempting to buy herself some room to initiate her own offense, but the Wrath simply refused to let up.

He swung at her three times, the first strike aimed at her head, the second at her stomach, the third at her legs, and each time he came from a different angle. Satele successfully fended off each of them then spun her staff in front of her like a fan, trying to discourage her opponent from getting any closer. But the Wrath simply followed the spin of her blades and at the right moment he thrust his own weapon forward, ceasing the spin cold.

Capitalizing on her weapon's sudden static nature, the Wrath stepped forward and backhanded Satele across the face, hoping to stun her for a killing strike. But the Jedi Master expertly accepted the blow, flowing along with it to spin a full 360 degrees and deliver a kick to The Wrath's stomach.

The Wrath's armor absorbed the attack, allowing him to grab Satele's outstretched leg by the ankle. Taking advantage of her awkward footing he struck down at her, hoping to sever her appendage. The Jedi blocked despite her predicament, then jumped off her free foot and used it to kick off The Wrath's armored chest, using it as a jump point to wrench free her imprisoned foot and landing ten feet away.

The Wrath was quick to respond and pursued his fleeing quarry, only to lose her when she deactivated her weapon and disappeared into a sea of dust. The brown fog brought about by the falling debris had not yet settled. Wisely the Wrath chose not to follow and instead assumed a defensive Form III stance, focusing his senses on the surroundings.

" **Running away Master Shan?"** he taunted loudly.

Satele made no sounds as she swiftly navigated the sea of dust that robbed both her and the Wrath of much of their physical sight. However, as with most Force users they did not need her eyes to see. She suspected the Wrath could sense traces of her presence though she did her best to mask it.

Without warning the Grand Master suddenly came sprinting out of the dust from behind the Wrath. Her saberstaff sprang to life and she swung at the Wrath's exposed back. But at the last second the Sith moved his lightsaber, stretching his arms to block her blade with his. Then almost immediately he retaliated with a wide swing that forced Satele to back away.

Quickly she broke off the engagement and disappeared again into the dusky fog while the Wrath remained at his station. Long seconds passed as the Wrath remained alert, his muscles wound tight in anticipation.

Suddenly the Wrath shifted his lightsaber to protect his right shoulder. A mere moment after his red blade was in place, Satele in the form of a blur shot past him and sparks burst from where the streaks of her saberstaff struck his red blade. With a guttural growl he swung at her after image only to hit air.

Before the fight could continue Satele masked her presence and disappeared into the dust again. Almost as soon as she was gone, the Wrath's senses alerted him of imminent danger. His hands moved on their own, maneuvering his red blade to his left flank.

Sparks flew as the Jedi struck from the cloud again. Immediately the Wrath shifted his defense just in time to deflect another potentially life ending strike.

Again and again and again Satele would speed out of the dust to strike and again and again and again the Wrath would just barely manage to deflect the blow. After two dozen blinding fast strikes, eclipsing only a minute in total, the Wrath's defenses finally faltered.

Satele burst forward activating her weapon as she did. Frustrated with being on the defensive the Wrath abandoned his defense in favor of swinging his lightsaber in the direction his instincts directed him to. His preemptive strike would have bisected the Grand Master had she not at the last moment dropped to her knees, sliding beneath the crimson blade while at the same time lashing out with her own.

The Wrath let loose an animalistic howl as he felt the sting of her saber pierce his side. The blade had not dug deep and there was barely any noteworthy pain, but the Wrath felt his anger build all the same. Anger that he had failed to end the fight then and there, anger that he had been the one to be wounded and not her.

" **You will pay for that Jedi!"**

For her part Satele felt no elation at her small victory, in fact she felt only grief and pain. It was not a pain like she had struck herself instead of him. No, it was far worse. A horrible searing spike had been thrust into her heart though her chest remained unmarred.

This pain forced her to stop and hide in the cloud of dust instead of continuing her attack. When she was a safe enough distance away she dropped to one knee and let loose a shaky. Where no one could see her she silently mouthed the words: _"I'm sorry"_.

The Wrath had had enough of this cloud of dust shielding his prey from him. He was Sith, the philosophy of his order, of his entire life was centered on aggression. He would not be the defender.

Curling his arms inwards the Wrath gathered the Force around his body, he let it build, he let it struggle against the invisible chains that he used to hold it in place, let it kick and scream to be released. Finally he threw out his arms, breaking those chains, and letting loose the Force in a massive omnidirectional wave.

The cloud of dust that still hung the air was instantly blown away. Satele sensed the danger too late and was caught by the sudden tsunami and sent flying out of the entrance hall and into the main chamber where she landed on her back on the council table.

" **There you are!"** he snarled.

With his prey exposed the Wrath growled and leapt towards her with his lightsaber held over head in both hands. Satele regained her senses just in time, she saw the Sith coming down on her and activated her saberstaff, its blue blades sprang to life just in time to save her life. The Wrath's weapon came down heavy on her, sparks crackled from the two blades as he pressed down on her with all his weight. Unexpectedly the Wrath relented and for a moment Satele thought he might retreat. But then he began to rain down a series of heavy two handed strikes down on Satele's defenses.

The Jedi Master held her defense, but knowing she wouldn't last long under the Wrath's relentless assault Satele reached out with the Force and flung a few large chunks of rubble at her enemy. The Sith became temporarily distracted avoiding the missiles, giving Satele a chance to retake the offensive.

She leapt up and came at him as twisting hurricane of acrobatic flips and spinning blades. The dark lord was now on the defensive again, but he was not passive.

As a master of lightsaber combat his trained eye had followed and analyzed her movements and immediately defined them to be a combination of the Ataru and Niman forms of lightsaber combat. Fast paced and aggressive, the Grand Master's style relied on momentum as a multiplier to defeat her enemies. But once that momentum was broken she could be forced into a contest of pure martial prowess.

He continued to backpedal while dodging or deflecting the strikes of his opponent. As he did this he patiently waited for the right moment to turn the tide back in his favor.

Satele did another of her disorientingly complex spin flips that transitioned into a diagonal slash, and there the Wrath saw his opportunity. Kicking off of his back foot he dashed forward, intercepting her strike just before the momentum of her spin could build to its peak. Satele's eyes widened as she realized that her offense has been effectively stonewalled. With their sabers locked together, the Wrath took advantage of his opponent's brief moment of shock and blasted Satele with the Force using his free hand.

The Jedi Master was blasted off the council table, tumbled through the air, and smashed against the chamber wall. The Wrath was immediately on her, using the Force to quicken his steps and deliver a finishing blow.

But the Jedi Master recovered too quickly and rolled underneath his horizontal slash, then she came back with a jumping thrust aimed at his chest.

Unexpectedly the Sith Lord immediately moved towards the incoming blue blade, at the last possible moment he spun himself around her thrust. Free of harm and his opponent in arms reach, the Wrath transitioned from his spin to grab the Jedi by the neck with his left hand. He then used his superior strength to lift her clean off the ground and then smash her into the floor so hard the tiles cracked.

Satele was left in a dazed pain, allowing the Wrath to grab and lift her up with the Force. Then with a throwing motion from his hand he sent the Jedi Master went flying through the Council Chamber doors and out into the main hall where she made a heavy landing at the foot of the stairs.

Satele felt pain course through her entire body, instinctively she called upon the Force to heal what could be healed and used immense mental discipline to ignore the rest. The Wrath walked through the doors, but did not attack, instead he allowed his opponent to regain her stance.

" **On your feet master Jedi,"** he ordered, **"I know you can do better than this!"**

Without giving a response Satele reignited her lightsaber and the Sith charged.

He flipped over the Jedi, swing his lightsaber twice as he went. Satele blocked both strikes then riposted with two strikes of her own, one from each blade.

Not wanting his opponent to regain any offensive momentum, the Wrath pressed his attack.

Upon landing the Sith made a low swing for Satele's legs. The Jedi blocked with her lower blade, then retaliated by holding her lightsaber above her head and spun it like a deadly fan that threatened the Wrath with decapitation. The Wrath however, dropped to his knees and slid under the rotating blue blades.

But the Jedi Master pressed harder, as soon as he returned to his feet Satele jumped at him and thrust her saberstaff. The Wrath backpedaled to avoid the attack. Satele thrust again and again, using her saberstaff like a lance to keep up the pressure.

As Satele drew back her staff to thrust again the Sith saw a chance and pounced forward. He grabbed her saberstaff firmly by its hilt, halting the attack, and then violently shot his knee up into the Jedi's stomach.

The sudden rush of pain and loss of air caused Satele to loosen her grasp on her weapon. The Wrath ripped it away and prepared to deliver the finishing the Grand Master would not be so easily killed. At the last possible moment she threw up her hands and blasted her opponent with the Force. The Dark Lord was sent spinning into the air and smashed into one of the many columns in the hallway.

Using the Force to retrieve her weapon, Satele pressed the advantage and charged.

The Wrath having landed on his feet, retaliated immediately by letting loose a crackling stream of lightning.

Satele brought up her saber and deflected the deadly bolt away. But the Sith was not so easily deterred, he brought up both hands and cast a storm of lightning at his opponent.

Satele attempted to block again, but this time the intensity of the lightning forced her to halt her advance. She held strong, but the Wrath only intensified his assault. Eventually the intensity became so great that she was lifted right off her feet.

The Sith ceased casting his storm and moved to finish the fight.

Satele struggled to recover. Even having defended against the Sith lightning with a lightsaber her hands had become numb, her insides felt like they were on fire, and she tasted more than a little blood in her mouth.

"A little more, just a little bit more," she whispered.

The Wrath's presence fell upon her and she leapt back to her feet. Immediately she spotted the dark figure advancing towards her. She threw out both her hands and sent a powerful Force wave rolling to meet him.

The Wrath did the same.

Their two waves of Force energies collided and the entire temple quaked in the resulting aftermath.

Both combatants were thrown back but it was Satele who lost her footing and fell. Shrugging off the buffeting storm of debris, the Wrath burst through the dust to finally finish her off.

The Jedi rolled out of the way and attempted to raise her weapon. But the Sith's crimson blade moved too fast.

In a last desperate attempt Satele threw up her lightsaber hilt to block.

The Wrath's red blade sliced through Satele's staff and left her holding two equally long halves.

He expected the remains to deactivate and leave his opponent weaponless. Instead both ends remained fully functional, leaving her with two lightsaber, one in each hand.

"Shouldn't have done that," smiled Satele

The Wrath's response was to utter a guttural growl and reinitiate his attack.

The Sith started off with a wide horizontal slash. Displaying great flexibility, Satele bent herself backwards to allow the Wrath's lightsaber to pass over. She then spun low and swiped both her blades in unison at his feet.

Her opponent jumped above her attack, but Satele kept up her momentum. She swung her blades in a furious dance, attacking with one then immediately following up with the other.

The Emperor's chosen found himself being pressed back.

He attempted to retaliate with a quick strike, but Satele parried and delivered a Force empowered kick to his chest. The Wrath staggered and attempted to recover only to be blown off his feet by a powerful follow up Force push.

Satele moved in to deal the finishing blow but her Sith opponent jumped back to his feet and raised his blade again. The Jedi was soon upon him, swinging her blades together in synchronous, pounding against his defenses like the constant waves of a sea against the shore.

In an attempt to allow himself some breathing room, the Wrath allowed himself to fall deeper into the Dark Side. He became its vessel, its cage, he let it stir and rail within him, allowing it to build up inside of his core until finally he released it in a single instant.

The Wrath roared and threw out his arms as the Force exploded out of him, creating a shockwave so powerful it was felt all the way from the Imperial Command Center.

Satele was caught off guard and sent the tumbling uncontrollably through the air.

A thin smile touched his lips beneath his helmet, the Wrath moved in.

Satele landed far and for a brief moment she did not have the strength to rise again. Every bone in her body felt cracked, every muscle felt twisted. Pain wracked her body and the growing despair that had gnawed at her from the beginning of the fight began to settle in.

Where had she gone wrong? If she had done more, would this still be happening? Was this all her fault? Did she fail the order?

No, she couldn't think about that. Not now, not with so many lives hanging in the balance.

Calling on the Force to once again heal some of her minor wounds, Satele rose back up just as the Wrath arrived.

" **Still alive? Good."**

"The offer to return still stands," she evenly replied.

" **What's the matter with you!?"** the Sith asked angrily, **"don't you realize that if you don't kill me here, then I will go after the rest of your Order after you are dead? I will never stop, I will slaughter Jedi after Jedi until they are wiped from the galaxy."**

Satele winced, a small prick of anger managing to worm its way into her mind. The Wrath sensed it and kept prodding her.

" **I know you felt the lives of the Jedi I killed on the way here. How did that make you feel?"**

The Jedi Master did not respond. But the Wrath knew he had hit a nerve.

" **Perhaps instead of killing you, I will keep you alive so that you can feel the last vestiges of your order die out."**

"You're attempts to goad me are useless Wrath, the light is with me, I will never give in to anger."

The Dark Lord sneered behind his mask. **"So it would seem, now..."**

The Wrath's left hand reached down to hip where he unclipped a second lightsaber. Its crimson blade hissed to life and bathed him in its bloody glow.

"… **shall we begin?"**

* * *

Vette wasn't someone who liked fighting.

She was no slouch when it came to a throw down, in fact she was deceptively deadly, her travels with her master had shown that much, but she didn't enjoy it like some evil mask wearing persons who she would not be named.

Despite her distaste for violence, she had found herself in quite a few situations that required it. Together with her master she had taken on Republic commandos, White Maw pirates, and even Jedi Masters.

But invading a planet? The Jedi's home planet? Walking into the middle of a warzone? This was starting to get out of hand.

The young Twi'lek rolled behind a fallen column as a squad of temple guards fired on her position. Why were they attacking her? Surely with all the temple crawling with Imperial troops and Sith Lords they had better things to do than come after her! Damn it, why did she have to go and get separated from the Wrath? She wasn't even totally sure how it had happened. One minute he was there with those creepy Imperial guards, then she'd seen some glowing box that had looked pretty expensive, and when she looked back he had been gone. _I swear if I get out of this-_

More blaster fire striking her cover shook Vette from her thoughts. _Right, survive first, internal monologue later._

She pulled out her weapons. In her left hand she held a D-200 Enforcer, a fairly standard blaster pistol. Decent stopping power, rapid fire, relatively accurate, and quite reliable. In her right hand however was her heavy blaster pistol, a S-203 Watchman. It was heavier and had greater recoil that forced its user to fires slower, but made up for it with more powerful bolts and greater range.

Vette popped out from her cover and fired off a volley out of her Enforcer, four guards went down immediately. Vette then pulled up her Watchman and fired three shots. One bolt went wide, the next two hit their mark and blew dinner plate size holes in two guards.

The single remaining guard tried to return fire, but Vette quickly put him down with a casual shot from her Enforcer. The Twi'lek smiled at her accomplishment.

"Not bad," she congratulated herself outloud. Her victory was cut short however by a squad of Republic soldiers moving towards her position.

"Master Satele needs assistance, let's move!" she heard one of them say.

"Shavit," she cursed. Thinking on her feet, she holstered her Watchman and unclipped a thermal detonator from her belt and chucked it at the incoming squad.

The small round metal ball sailed through the air, hit the ground, bounced a few times, and rolled to the trooper's feet where it finally exploded, taking down half of them in a single blast. That left six more for her to deal with.

Hoping to not give them a chance to recuperate, Vette began to unload on them with both her weapons. But these soldiers were well trained and immediately sought cover from the Twi'lek.

Two of them returned fire and forced Vette back behind her column.

"I seriously need to think of a career change," she muttered to herself, "being a Sith's slave is starting to not look good for my health."

"Freeze!" Vette looked up to see the end of a blaster she hated looking at the most.

"Bantha poodoo,"

Suddenly, the Trooper holding her at blaster point was whisked off his feet by an invisible hand. Vette's eyes followed the trooper until he came to a stop, only for a yellow lightsaber to burst out of his chest.

His lifeless body was then tossed aside with contempt, revealing his murderer. A woman, hooded and clothed in elegant dark robes, wielding a saberstaff.

Vette sighed. "Great, it's the crazy girl."

Jaesa Willsaam, Vette and her did not get along while they served under the Wrath on the same ship. Now Jaesa had become a Sith Lord and their relationship had not improved a bit.

"Sith! Open fire!" yelled one of the remaining troopers,

Jaesa immediately leaped through the air as the Republic soldiers fired upon her. She landed between two of them and spun her saberstaff, both trooper's heads fell to one way while their bodies fell another. Jaesa then swept her hand across the air causing one of the remaining troopers to smash into one of the few still standing columns.

The two still left desperately fired on the deadly woman. Jaesa charged in laughing maniacally as her saber easily deflecting the bolts. The first trooper sliced in half, the other she struck with lightning till his body began to smoke.

"Hahaha," Jaesa laughed psychotically, "nothing like the thrill of killing a few helpless soldiers."

As she reveled in her emotions, a Republic soldier who'd just arrived took aim at her exposed backside. Jaesa sensed him through the Force and spun around to end his life when a blaster bolt took him right between the eyes.

The Sith Lord turned to the source of the bolt and frowned.

"You," she accused.

"Me," confirmed Vette, "nice to see you Jaesa, still crazy and evil I see."

"Still don't know your place I see," the Sith countered, glaring murder at the alien.

"Oooh, the scary eyes," mocked Vette, "and seriously, I don't know my place? You look like you don't know yours, I'll give you a hint though. It's got loud music, lots of men, and a poles that you dance on."

Vette was of course referring to Jaesa's choice of clothing. It was hardly what could be considered modest, even for a girl who got a thrill out of showing herself off.

Her black sith robes allowed for a good deal of her midriff to be shown and had a plunging neckline, in addition the ankle long skirt she wore had a large slit in the side that teased the shape of her legs under her robes.

"You're just jealous that I've got something to show," the Sith Lord shot back,

"Oh ho, excuse me?! Last I checked we were the same size," replied Vette,

"Yet I'm the one with more men under my belt."

"That just makes you a whore."

"And you're restraint makes you no better than a child."

"At least I know what restraint is."

"Hmph," Jaesa smirked, "you know, the only reason I haven't killed you yet is because I find your attempts to annoy me...mildly amusing."

"Well I find your evil...incredibly irritating."

The two glared at each other for a long moment before finally breaking off at the same time.

"Good talk," Jaesa finally said,

"Agreed," replied Vette.

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a lightsaber activating. Both women turned to see a Jedi leading another squad of Republic soldiers towards them.

Jaesa activated her own lightsaber and Vette unholstered her blasters.

"Time to get back to work,"

* * *

Satele found herself flipping through the air into the hall of archives as she fell back from another of the Wrath's assaults. The Sith had been a terrifying force of nature when wielding only one saber, now with two he was even more deadly.

The Wrath strode towards her confidently, as if knowing it was only a matter of time before he struck her down. Satele charged, leaping acrobatically and swinging both of her sabers to create a cross down attack.

Her opponent blocked both of her sabers, locking them with his own. Knowing that a contest of strength would not end in her favor the Jedi Master immediately broke the lock and attempted to retake the offensive. But the Sith parried her attacks and riposted, giving him the offensive instead.

He attacked with his right saber, Satele dodged.

He attacked with his left saber, Satele threw herself back.

The Wrath attacked with both sabers, swinging them in unison like a single blade and Satele prepared to defend.

Unexpectedly tendrils of blue lightning suddenly sprung to life from the Wrath's blades. By the time Satele noticed it was already too late, their blades crashed against one another and the lightning coursing through the Wrath's blade erupted in a brilliant flash of eldritch energy that launched her backwards. Desperately Satele tried to right herself midair but found that the lightning coursing along her body had paralyzed her muscles. She hit the temple floor like a rock.

The Sith pressed his advantage and moved to kill her while she was down. But Satele recovered quicker than expected, burns from the lightning trailed along her arms and tears covered her clothes from striking the floor, but she still mustered the will to stall the Wrath with a powerful Force push. The Dark Lord however, simply ducked his head down and powered through the blast of telekinetic energy.

He then reached out with both of his hands and used the Force to rip a pair of heavy study desks and several holobook shelves out of the floor. With a gesture he sent all of it hurdling towards her. With otherworldly grace, Satele weaved around the first and second desk and dodged under the first of the shelves. The second shelf she leapt at, landing on its top before using it as a bounce board to launch herself at the last incoming shelf.

Her feet touched the shelf and for several seconds she rode on it like a massive spider. Suddenly her senses screamed like ship klaxons inside of her head. Immediately she pushed out her legs and shot off the still airborne shelf, just as the Wrath's lightning struck it and caused it to explode.

The Jedi Master double backflipped, landing herself on top one of the nearby temple elevators and used the Force to hit the up button.

Her opponent growled before taking a running start and then calling upon the Force to launch himself six meters into the air, just enough for him to land on top of the spacious elevator next to Satele. Though surprised, Satele quickly brought up her guard.

The Wrath lunged forward with a double thrust, but she batted the attack away and spun herself to sweep both her sabers at his legs. He leapt over her blades, but as Satele came back up and around she shot out her foot and caught her enemy right in the chest. The Dark Lord held strong however, digging his heels into the elevator roof, refusing to give a single inch of the territory they fought on.

Angered, the Sith renewed his attack against the Jedi with greater ferocity. The two fought like demons the entire way up, neither truly gaining an edge over the other. When the elevator finally came to a stop, Satele immediately leapt off and landed onto the sixth floor. The Wrath chased her into a hallway lined with the statues of great Jedi Masters of the past, each masterfully carved from stone found on Tython.

Satele whipped around to face him again. The Wrath struck at her with his left blade, she blocked with her right and forced both of their weapons into the ground while attacking with her left saber. The Dark Lord parried with his right and kicked his foot up at the Jedi.

To avoid his boot Satele threw herself back.

The Wrath's anger began to reach its boiling point. This Jedi, no matter her title, should have been dead a dozen different times by now. He would entertain her foolish notions of survival no more!

Once again his crimson blades became alight with Sith lightning.

Though his target was well out of saber reach the Wrath swung both of his blades. Satele hurriedly raised her blades in an X, just in time for the lighting on the Wrath's weapons to leap off and strike her.

Satele's lightsabers absorbed the majority of the electric discharge but she could do nothing of sheer force behind the attack, which lifted her clean off the ground.

The Wrath was upon her in an instant. Seeing Satele hanging helplessly in the air he leapt up after her, his blades once again fueled with crackling blue lightning.

Seeing him come at her, Satele knew she could not defend herself in her given position. Out of desperation she threw one of her sabers at him, using the Force to spin the weapon like a deadly fan.

The Wrath struck with precision, slicing the half of a saberstaff into two quarters, destroying it. He then used the Force to propel himself forward like a cannon. Still in the air, Satele saw him coming and quickly raised her single blade in defense. Twin crimson blades charged with lightning slammed down on the hasty defense provided by her one remaining weapon.

Her back smashed down against the floor, cratering it, and causing her to cough up a glob of blood. The Wrath dropped down two meters away from her and loomed over his broken opponent. It was only through sheer willpower that Satele reignited her saber and shakily rose to fight again. The Sith Lord showed no mercy to his weakening adversary.

Utilizing both sabers he began to hammer away at Satele, with each strike she blocked he sensed her falter. The end was close.

" **DIE! DIE! DIE!"** he roared with every clash of their blades.

Each time Satele parried her stance was disrupted and the grip on her lightsaber became weaker.

Every time she dodged the margin with which she escaped got smaller.

Finally, the Wrath's strikes brought her to one knee, he struck down again, and again, and again. It was close now, the end. The Wrath could practically taste her death coming soon. As he raised his sabers once more to deal the final blow, Satele saw her opening.

Quicker than the Sith could react, Satele slammed the palm of her hand into the floor. The Force erupted from her hand and the floor around The Wrath's feet opened up beneath him. As powerful as the Wrath was, he could not fly and there was now 50 feet of air between him and the ground.

 **"NO!"**

The Wrath realized that Satele had lead him into a trap, it had cost her more than a pound of flesh, but it was worth it. As the final nail in his coffin the Grand Master threw out her hands and one of the most powerful Force pushes the Wrath had ever witnessed smashed into his body.

The Dark Lord shot to the ground floor like a rocket. The crater that resulted spanned a diameter of nearly seven meters, no normal man could have survived. But as he had proven before, the Wrath was no normal man. His body burned with pain but his anger pushed him to slowly rise. Gradually he managed to stand back up.

Then Satele dropped from the floor above and landed perfectly at the edge of the crater. The Wrath growled and urged his body forward so that he could return the insult. But then the Grand Master raised her hands skyward, Satele loosened the rest of the floor above and used the Force to direct all of it on top of him. The Wrath was crushed under tons upon tons of rock and steel.

Finally Satele let out a breath of relief. The exertion that she had just put herself through was immense. Though pain rioted through her body and her vision blurred every few seconds, she pushed herself to walk towards the mountain of rubble and laid her hand upon it.

 _At the very least I can be with you in the end...so that you won't be alone._ Many would have argued that he didn't deserve it. But they hadn't known the Wrath like she had. Through the tons of stone she sensed his presence, she also sensed his anger, his frustration, and his desperate struggle to hold onto life.

Gently she touched his presence with her own. As expected he immediately recoiled and the rubble he was buried under shook because of it. But his strength had faded and she easily subdued his outrage.

He struggled, railing out against her like an angry child against their parent. But despite his struggles she held on firmly.

"I won't leave you," she whispered.

His struggles weakened.

"Never again."

Finally they ceased. Whether it was because what little strength he had left had finally faded or because he had heard her, Satele did not know. She sensed his life force wane, slowly yet gradually it became dimmer and dimmer, until finally it was no more. There was no more fire, no more anger, just the empty cold of death.

Satele let her hand fall to her side.

 _There is no death, there is only the Force._ That is what the Jedi believed. But if there was no death, then why did she feel such pain in her heart.

Now that the Wrath was defeated, she could join the rest of the Jedi in evacuating the temple. With heavy steps she turned away and started to walk.

Then the ground began to shake.

Satele's eyes shot wide open. _Impossible!_

She turned back to the mountain of rubble to see it shuddering violently. But she had felt his presence in the Force disappear!

Like a volcano the rubble erupted, spewing chunks of concrete and rock everywhere, Satele herself only managed to avoid being crushed through use of acrobatics and guidance from the Force.

But when the hurricane of rubble passed, she was left with a worse threat.

The Wrath, still alive, and still very angry.

His armor was cracked and torn. Half his helmet had been broken away, revealing his dark hair, pale skin, and sickly yellow eyes. Blood seeped from his body and out onto the ground like a river, it was nigh impossible that he was still alive.

" **No more games Jedi,"** hissed the Wrath, **"I am done playing with you!"**

Satele activated her lightsaber. The Wrath leapt through the air and landed by smashing a fist into the ground. A powerful Force wave blasted out from the impact and sent Satele reeling. The Wrath followed up with his lightsabers.

Satele had never felt such raw power before. Each of his attacks was like attempting to stop a stone column from falling down on top of her and every second it was as though a dozen of them came down on her at once. It was a miracle -there was no other way to describe it -that she had not been completely overwhelmed within the first few seconds of the reignited battle.

The Wrath' sabers fell down on her over and over and Satele blocked but her knees buckled under the weight of their volume. He followed up with an upwards slash that Satele also parried but at the cost of being blown upwards from the sheer force of the blow.

The Jedi landed on her feet, only for her opponent to charge her like a bullet train and smash into her defense. Their blades locked.

The Wrath broke the lock by bringing his knee into her gut, he then blasted her with the Force at such an angle that she was literally pressed into the ground. The Wrath then raised his blades and brought them down on the Jedi.

Satele threw up her remaining lightsaber at the last second, saving herself from the attack. But the Wrath continued to wield his sabers like a hammer and began mindlessly smashing them down on her. Her arms began to weaken, she pushed back to gain some breathing room.

The Wrath allowed it.

Taking her chance she lunged out at him, preparing to slash him across the chest. But just as she had caught him in a trap, now he had caught her in one of his own. By relenting his assault and allowing her room to retaliate, he had goaded her into exposing herself. In her weakened state the horizontal slash she had aimed at his chest was overextended and left her defenses open. Seizing his opportunity the Wrath's hand shot out and a stream of lightning struck Satele dead on, he continued the stream even as she screamed, pouring as much deadly power into it as possible.

Satele withered in agony as the lightning seared her flesh and burned her soul. The Wrath suddenly stopped, only to then grip her with the Force to lift her up and then smash her back down onto the ground.

The Wrath's lightsabers hummed hungrily, urging their wielder to feed them blood, he moved in to do just that and to finish the battle once and for all.

Master Satele, amazingly still alive but noticeably weak, managed to rise to her feet and block his first strike. But it was a flimsy and shaky defense and when their blades met her defense was literally thrown aside. He could have ended it there, but instead the Wrath's second lightsaber pierced the Jedi Master's left leg, causing her to fall.

A burst of lightning exploded out from the Wrath's hands and slammed Satele against a wall four meters away. When she dropped back down the Wrath charged forward.

Desperately Satele stumbled forward to meet him. Up came the Wrath's right saber, locking the two blades together. But with a deft flick and spin of his wrist, Satele's last weapon flew out of her hands.

Without mercy or hesitation, the Wrath thrust his second saber forward.

Satele's eyes widened and a small cry of pain escaped her lips. She turned her eyes down to see the Wrath's crimson blade lodged firmly in her stomach.

" **So it ends,"** the Wrath announced.

She had been defeated.

At first Satele was overwhelmed by surprise and fear.

But that surprise soon turned to acceptance and the fear soon became peace. Her vision began to blur and darken. Master Satele took comfort in knowing that she would soon be reunited with her fellow Jedi in the Force.

With what little strength she had left, Satele raised her head to stare at the face of her murderer. The skull like shape of the mask, the demonic razor sharp teeth, and sunken black pits for eyes. Most who saw this face staring down at them while they died had seen themselves die at the hands of a monster. But with his mask damaged Satele could see a glimmer of what was beyond that mask.

She saw his pale skin and recalled a time when it had been thoroughly kissed by Tython's sun, when locks of his dark hair had been tied into a padawan's braid, and when his yellow eyes that signified his allegiance to the dark had instead been a beautiful sky blue.

Those memories were enough for a solemn smile to spread itself on her lips.

At seeing his opponent smile, the Wrath nearly recoiled in confusion. Why was she smiling? Did she not realize she was going to die? Or did the Grand Master have some secret that she was hiding for just this moment? Some weapon or power that allowed her to defy death, whatever it was he would not allow her to use it. Cruelly he dug the blade of his lightsaber further into Satele's stomach, eliciting another cry of pain from her.

But still her smile never wavered.

Out of the corner of his left eye, the one that had been exposed, the Wrath saw the Jedi begin to move her right hand upwards. NO! She would not get the chance! She would die here and now! Quickly he moved his blade further into her but she did not stop moving her hand or stop smiling.

Further he moved the blade until finally he had buried his weapon to the hilt and yet still she did not die.

The Wrath felt something touch his left cheek and he flinched. He looked to see that it was the Grand Master's hand. He expected her to attack him in some manner, some last defiant attempt so that they would both die here. But nothing happened. She just stared into his eyes and smiled.

To the Wrath's surprise he saw peace in her eyes, as well as happiness, and...pity. For him?

"I'm sorry," she whispered and behind his mask, the Wrath let out a small gasp.

With her last words the light behind Grand Master Satele Shan's eyes finally died. Sensing this, the Wrath yanked his blade out of her stomach and her body collapsed onto the floor.

The Wrath stared at her lifeless body for a few moments, pondering the confusing actions of the jedi master. He expected to feel elation, pride, perhaps even happiness. But he felt nothing. No, that wasn't entirely true. He felt...regret.

The Wrath shook himself as though it would remove those feelings. It didn't matter what he felt in the end, because it did not matter if what he did was right or wrong. All that mattered was that what he did had benefitted the Empire.

As if to confirm this the Wrath suddenly received an incoming call on his communicator. He accepted it and heard the voice of Grahdar Wyklon.

" _My lord Wrath! I am pleased to report that the enemy lines have broken! They are in full retreat! This is a glorious day for the-!"_ The Wrath cut the connection, not caring to hear anymore from Wyklon.

His gaze returned to Satele Shan's lifeless body. Then unexpectedly, and with great care, he kneeled down and scooped up her body in his arms. _You deserve this much at least_.

* * *

Vette blasted the last Republic trooper alive and holstered her weapons. Jaesa and her stood knee deep in the bodies of both soldiers and Jedi.

"Not bad for a Twi'lek slave," she mused,

"You? I did most of the work," protested Jaesa, "you just shot a few of the worthless ones."

"Ugh, get over yourself," said Vette, "I don't have time to have another nice chat with you. I've gotta go."

"Yes. Please. Go," said Jaesa, "as much fun as it was seeing you again, I can't wait for you to leave."

"Ditto," replied Vette before finally walking off, "alright my lord, where are you?"

Vette spent the next ten minutes walking through the crumbling halls of the Jedi temple looking for her master. She asked the occasional imperial trooper or sith if they had seen him. A few years ago all of them would have brushed her off and sent her to scrub their ship's freshers or some other menial task.

But ever since the new Emperor took power, aliens had had a place in the Empire. Heck, she even saw a few aliens right now, dressed in Imperial army uniforms or carrying a lightsaber as a member of the Sith order. So when she asked, everybody told her politely that they had not seen the Wrath.

It helped that they knew if she was disrespected, the Emperor's chief enforcer would most likely rip their eyes out with his fingers before choking them to death while electrocuting them. He could do it too, Vette had seen him.

When she still couldn't find him, Vette decided to try calling him over their private holo-frequency. That didn't work either, she had almost given up when her foot unintentionally stepped on something that made a loud enough noise to get her attention.

She lifted her foot up to see what she'd stepped on, it was a piece of metal. When she picked it up and lifted it to her eyes Vette realized she recognized this piece of metal. It was definitely a part of the Wrath's helmet.

"Uh...my lord? my lord!? Are you here?" she asked aloud, it was only after a few more minutes of searching that she noticed an open door with a faint glow further inside.

Her curiosity peaked, she moved in with her blaster at the ready. The door led her to a flight of stairs that spiraled downwards until she was inside a large dark room that was lit only by dim lights and...a fire?

Sure enough a large fire crackled in the middle of the room and in front of that fire stood the man she had been looking for.

"Hey!" she called, walking towards him, "I've been looking everywhere for you and I-"

The Wrath's gaze suddenly turned on Vette and it made her feel very small. She wisely stopped talking but carefully continued walking towards him. Without saying anything the Sith turned his gaze back to the burning fire.

Upon closer inspection, Vette saw that the fire was actually a pyre and there was a person inside the fire.

A Jedi?

Vette didn't have the courage to ask.

As she tiptoed her way towards the dark lord her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she saw the sorry state her master was in. It was bad, really bad. His left leg looked twisted, right shoulder dislocated, and Vette was pretty sure it wasn't healthy to have that much shrapnel stuck in a person's gut.

Already a pool of blood had gathered at his feet but he remained focused on the fire and the person inside of it. Vette thought of voicing her concerns, but in the end she opted to simply stay silent.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello there random reader! I am pleased to present you with what I hope to be my biggest project ever. Basically this is a cross over between the Mass Effect Universe and the SWTOR/KOTOR Star Wars universe.**

 **A few things to keep in mind going forward. The first couple of updates will not contain any Mass Effect related content, they will instead be used to set up the current status of the Star Wars universe. I have quite a few chapters typed up already, it's just a matter of editing so don't be too worried about update times.**

 **Please review! I want to know what ya'll think! Feel free to PM any questions, requests, etc.**


	2. Prologue: Politics and Friendship

**Star Wars is owned by Disney and Lucas Arts, Mass Effect is owned by Bioware and EA, this story is for entertainment purposes only.**

 _Jon12231223: Here ya go!_

 _Old one Griffin: I feel like this chapter shall answer your question. If you are referring to whether or not they are in a romance...I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see._

 _RabidArmenian: I'm glad that my story has peaked your interest. That was an intentional decision, Mass Effect 2's intro was one of the best in my opinion and I am glad that you noticed the parallel._

 _AVPfan: Great to see you again! And yeah, I took a bit of a break from writing due to school, but I'm finished now and I can devote more of my time to pursuing this. Killing Satele was not an easy choice but I figured it was a good way to start a story._

 _Guest: Thank you!_

 _Anonymous: Thank you!_

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Prologue pt.2 - Politics and Friendship**

* * *

 **2 months after the destruction of the Jedi Temple on Tython**

 **Dromund Kaas**

Vette walked into the docking bay of the spaceport where the _Executioner_ was docked. Her steps were slightly awkward, most likely due to the large amount of alcohol she'd just ingested. It had been a nice bar, with some nice people, but Vette had to admit that that last drink might have been one too many.

Still, she could see clearly and could walk a mostly straight line. Compared to some of the others at the bar that was pretty good. But then her shipmate might not feel the same way. The thought of another tongue lashing made her want to go back to the bar and grab another bottle.

As the ship doors slid open and permitted entry into the Fury-class Imperial Interceptor, Vette let out a sigh of relief upon seeing that there was no one there to greet her. He was probably working, hopefully she could sneak to her room without bumping into him. Those hopes were almost immediately dashed as she entered the main room, only to find her master typing away at the holoterminal.

No use hiding it now.

"Hey, I'm back," she announced, words a bit slurred despite her best efforts.

"Are you drunk?" he asked bluntly.

"Uh...no," she replied, "at least, I don't think I am."

Her master turned to cast his disapproving gaze upon her and Vette saw that he had decided to leave his helmet off.

The majority of the Sith Empire had never seen the face of the Lord Wrath, due in no small part to the man's tendency to spend extended periods with his helmet on. When she asked him about it, he had admitted that it was better the embodiment of the Emperor's fury be represented by the mask and not the man.

Vette herself rarely got to see her master's face and as a result she took every chance she got to observe.

Most would have expected something monstrous like the creature the Wrath used for a mask, and while he definitely wasn't the kindest looking guy around, he wasn't monstrous. Truthfully, Vette found the real Wrath to be surprisingly normal.

He was a relatively young human male, if she had to guess from her own knowledge of humans he was either in his late twenties or early thirties. His face's contour was quite chiseled, combined with its slender frame, and his slightly small mouth, the Wrath could be considered boyishly handsome, like someone you expected to see on alcohol ads in holomags. But his handsomeness was muddied by the unnaturally pale skin and yellow eyes that were indicators of his "sithiness" as Vette like to call it. He also had two ugly facial scars, the first going vertically from his right brow to his lower lip and the second crossing horizontally over the first scar from cheekbone to cheekbone to create a cross. Combined together -the skin, the piercing yellow eyes, the scars- and the Wrath was a confusing combination of a man.

As ugly as the scars on his face were though, Vette knew that the ones hiding beneath his body suit and armor were far worse. Recently a few more had been added as a result of his horrific battle with Satele Shan.

Many believed that after receiving such horrible injuries, Wrath would no longer be capable of performing his duties as the Emperor's enforcer. But their speculations had turned out to be wrong and the Wrath warned the Council to never doubt him again. Vette herself didn't fear Wrath, at least not like others did. But she did have a healthy desire to stay on his good side if for no other reason than the fact that he could break necks with his mind. The Wrath ceased typing on his console, he then walked over to the Twi'lek and took in a sharp breath of air through the nose.

"You stink of alcohol," he stated plainly.

"Yeah well, I was out for a while and decided to hit up a bar," she explained as though he were a disapproving parent, "don't worry, I can still tell how many fingers you hold up."

Wrath frowned and then turned away.

"Sober yourself up within the next hour and make yourself presentable," he ordered.

"Why?" asked Vette, "we expecting company?"

"Just do as you are told," he growled before leaving.

Vette frowned, a bit taken aback by her master's snippy attitude. He'd always been stern stick in the mud, but ever since Tython he seemed a bit harsher. It made her wish she wasn't the only one on this ship with him. Over the years the members of the _Executor's_ crew had slowly moved on.

Quinn had gone back to serving in the military with orders from the Wrath. Vette wasn't sure exactly what the orders were, but she was pretty sure they involved raising soldiers. In any case he was a colonel now, leading his own regiment. No loss there, Quinn and Vette had never got along and never would get along. His need for following protocol and military doctrine had always clashed with her need to have fun and take things easy.

Pierce had been assigned to a special detachment of Imperial Black Ops and was back to leading his own squad again. His squad's named was shadow...something, Vette couldn't be bothered to remember the name. While the two of them had never been "friends", Pierce had always been more fun that the majority of the crew. Vette missed making fun of Quinn with him.

Jaesa had been granted the title of Sith Lord, by Wrath, and now had her own ship, her own estate, and a company of imperial soldiers to command. As if she needed more reason to have an inflated ego.

And Broonmark had gone back to Hoth on the Wrath's orders to rebuild his clan so that they might serve the Empire. Vette was all too happy to have that one off the ship, by far the most bloodthirsty murder obsessed being in the galaxy. That left Vette, all alone on a ship with one of the most powerful beings in the entire galaxy. Well, except for 2V-R8 but he didn't really count.

It made the whole place feel real empty and real dangerous. Of course the question remained as to whether or not she could leave of her own free will.

The Twi'lek sighed and decided to head to her room.

On her way 2V-R8 tried to talk to her. "Oh! Greetings Ms. Vette I-"

"Not now." She did not want to hear about how he'd repainted the ship...again.

Vette's room, which had once served as the crew quarters, was not particularly luxurious but it was more than she'd ever had before. It had her own bed for one, which she paid for with the generous allowance Wrath gave her every month.

She also had a closet filled with the clothes that she owned and a miniature refrigeration unit in the corner which she had stacked full of flavored sweets and alcohols. Beside the refrigeration unit she had work bench where she tinkered with her weapons and put together little gadgets to slice into systems and break locks. All of this she had because of the Wrath and she was grateful for that. That's why she stuck by him, because he had given her so much and never really asked for anything in return. She wasn't even sure if she was still his slave, technically she was but she didn't know many slaves that got treated like her.

Vette plopped down on her bed and started to stroke her lekku, a habit she developed when she started thinking hard.

She remembered when she'd first met the guy. She'd been caught breaking into some musty old temple and put in cage with a shock collar slapped on her neck. The jailer in charge had been a real pain in the neck, both figuratively and literally. When Wrath stepped into the room she hadn't really thought much of him, just another acolyte trying to complete their trials. But by the end of his visit he'd certainly made quite the impression on her.

Then he came back, this time as the one holding her leash.

He hadn't exactly been tender with her but he wasn't cruel either.

Vette sighed, why was she even thinking about this? Deciding that she needed to sleep off the effects of the alcohol, Vette stripped off her clothes and lay down beneath her covers.

* * *

In his personal quarters the Wrath sat with his legs crossed and his hands resting on his knees.

Not many Sith practiced meditation regularly, quite a few believed it to be strictly something the Jedi did. But Wrath had found that it could be used to commune with the dark side just as well as the light. It allowed him to stew in his anger, let it wriggle and writhe in his gut while masking it under a facade of calm.

The darkness built around him, soothed him.

He basked in the sensation of it.

He embraced it.

As he communed, six perfectly round spheres made of pure durasteel orbited around the Wrath at eye height. Floating at the center as the "sun" of the miniature system were his personal lightsabers. Not trophies taken off the corpse of a victim or a relic taken from the tomb of an ancient Sith lord. These twin lightsabers had been forged by his own hands and imbued with his anger, his passion, and above all else his hate.

Currently both floated in a disassembled state but through the Force the Wrath swiftly fitted them back together, their reconstruction was oddly peaceful. Without opening his eyes he felt the weapons become whole and without any physical action on his part, both weapons extended their crimson blades towards the ceiling.

A chirp rang from the door.

Immediately his lightsabers deactivated and the orbs of durasteel dropped to the floor with a synchronized thud. Before his lightsabers could do the same the Wrath swiftly plucked them from the air and clipped them to his belt.

Using the force he opened the door.

"Greetings master," spoke his ship's 2V-R8 servant droid, "I hope I am not disturbing anything-"

"What do you want?" interrupted Wrath, his voice bordering impatient.

"Oh, yes, forgive me. But there is a call patched into the holoprojector for you. It is from **The Will**."

The Wrath immediately leapt to his feet and pushed passed the droid as he exited the room.

He entered the communications room and walked up to the holoprojector. The console was chirping in anticipation and a red light signaled an incoming transmission. With the press of a button the Wrath accepted the transmission.  
The Emperor's Will, Darth Jadus, appeared.

"Jadus," he greeted,

"Wrath," Jadus stated plainly, "your presence is required on Korriban, the Dark Council is convening to discuss the final details for the attack on Coruscant."

"I will set off immediately," assured Wrath with a hint of irritation. He did not appreciate being given reminder as though he were a forgetful child.

"See to it that you do, the Emperor himself will be expecting you" the image of Jadus vanished as the transmission cut. Despite his annoyance with Jadus, the Wrath immediately traveled to the ship's cockpit and began the startup sequence. The _Executioner_ sprang to life and the engine began to rumble.

"Korriban," mused the Wrath out loud, "the place where I was born."

* * *

Vette woke to the low humming of the _Executioner's_ engines. It was a familiar sound which would explain how she had slept through it. She soon realized that the ship was in fact flying and deduced that Wrath must have taken off while she was asleep.

She didn't have a problem with that, more sleep for her.

With a small yawn, Vette swung her legs over the side of the bed and stretched herself awake. She felt surprisingly alert, not even a little hungover.

Suddenly the door to her quarters slid open.

Ordinarily Vette would have screamed and jumped back under her covers as she was nearly naked. But she knew who it was and she knew it didn't really matter.

"Vette, get up," Wrath ordered, now fully clad in his armor and wearing his helmet.

"I'm already up," she pointed out,

"Get dressed."

The Twi'lek yawned. "Why? We in a rush?"

"Vette," growled Wrath in warning.

"Alright, alright, sorry," she said holding up her hands in surrender.

"Just get dressed," he repeated, "and make yourself presentable."

With that the Emperor's Wrath excused himself from her room.

"Yeesh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the Force today," said Vette when she was sure he wouldn't hear her. Moving quickly, Vette walked across the cold floor and opened her closet.

Inside was her formal wear, a white imperial uniform that Wrath had made for her. He had given it to her the day the new Emperor had taken power, Vette suspected that it was his way of saying _"welcome to equality"_.

Although it wasn't her favorite outfit, Vette didn't mind wearing it. It looked good and gave her a sense of authority even though she had none. When she was dressed properly, she left her room and joined Wrath in the cockpit.

"So what are we doing today?" she asked,

"You have eyes do you not?" replied the Wrath,

Vette rolled them and then turned her attention to the dusty red planet of Korriban came into view. This place had a few places in Vette's memory, mainly because it was where she met Wrath.

Other than that, she hated the place.

* * *

The _Executioner_ docked at the Sith Academy spaceport where the two of them immediately disembarked. From there they made their way towards the Dark Council's Chambers. The entire way there, Sith and Imperials alike showed their respect towards the Wrath by saluting, bowing, or in some extreme cases, prostrating themselves. Wrath paid no mind to them however, he didn't care for their shows of respect. It only mattered that they feared him and he could sense plenty of fear in their hearts.

"Do you ever feel like royalty with all these guys bowing for you?" asked Vette in an attempt to break the silence between them.

"No," he responded plainly.

"Hm, it kinda of makes me feel like it. Even though they're not bowing for me."

Silence.

"Uh...okay," she said, taking the hint, "shutting up now."

Luckily for Vette the walk to the Dark Council Chambers was a short one, the Wrath ordered her to stay outside until he returned. Vette was all too eager to comply, quickly finding herself a nice corner to lean on. She wanted to be away from Wrath for a bit, he was being a real jerk today.

* * *

As he approached the doors to the Council chambers, the Wrath found himself intercepted by a familiar face.

"My dear Wrath! How are you!? It has been far, far, too long!"

Master of the Sphere of Production and Logistics: Darth Vowrawn. The ever jovial Pureblood approached the Wrath fearlessly and gave the taller man a firm clasp on the shoulder, and the Wrath allowed it. Darth Vowrawn was one of the few people in the galaxy he'd allow to do so.

"Vowrawn," the Wrath greeted with a curt nod.

"My dear boy, please do lighten up! Let your shoulders fall a bit, for today is a great day indeed for the Empire." The Wrath did not relax but he gave a grunt of agreement.

Vowrawn, seeing this, gave smirk and ever so slightly shook his head. "In all seriousness, how are you? I understand you have been working tirelessly for our Empire."

" **As long as the Empire has enemies my work is not complete."**

"Then I fear your work will never be done."

" **If it is required of me."**

Vowrawn shook his head again. "Oh my dear boy, you have been a boon of unquestionable fortune for our people. But I do wish you would find the time to look after yourself. The time for martyrdom has long since passed."

" **You have my thanks Darth Vowrawn, but my work for the Emperor is reward enough."**

"Mmm," Vowrawn nodded thoughtfully. "Still though, you should take time for yourself, the Empire will not fall apart simply because you find your own personal pleasures."

The Wrath disagreed, after having seen the amount of superweapons that he had it was entirely possible for the Empire to fall overnight. But he kept his beliefs silent and allowed Vowrawn to continue uninterrupted.

"You should come to one of my parties. Enjoy good food and wine, mingle with your fellow Sith, maybe kill a few. Perhaps you'll even find yourself a fine Sith woman."

" **I will...consider it."**

"That is all I ask. Now…" Vowrawn spun on his heel, "let us attend to business, I usually like to be fashionably late but I simply can't seem hold my excitement today."

* * *

Upon entering he saw that two of the Council had already arrived.

The first was an elderly pale skinned human male. When he turned to face them the Wrath could see that his dark beard had grown longer from when last they met.

 **Master of the Sphere of Laws and Justice**

" **Darth Mortis."**

Mortis gave a bow. "Lord Wrath."

A respectable member of the Council, at least in the Wrath's opinion. He was not a staunch believer in Sith traditions, though until recently he believed in the anti-alien laws. But after some time under the new Emperor, Mortis had solidified his belief in the individual instead of the race.

The Wrath returned the man's bow with a courteous nod, then turned his attention to the other member. Unlike Mortis, this man was as tall as the Wrath, more muscular, and hooded.

" **Marr."**

"Wrath."

 **Master of the Sphere of Defense of the Empire.**

Darth Marr was most likely the most powerful of all the members of the Dark Council. The legends of his martial skill were second only to the Wrath's, with a reputation for routing entire armies on his own. With the exception of Vowrawn, the Wrath trusted Marr more than any other member of the Council. Before the new Emperor, Marr had placed himself above the petty infighting that had plagued the Empire and instead focused his attention on the destruction of the Republic and the Jedi. That alone made him a lord above other Sith in the Wrath's eyes.

"Marr! Mortis! So good to see you!" said Vowrawn in his usual overly cheerful attitude, "such an exciting day no?"

"Indeed, to be quite honest. I did not think that I would live to see the day," said Mortis.

"Those fears can be banished now," said Marr, "the Empire is now as it should be: unified, concentrated on crushing its foes and bringing all of the galaxy under its wing."

"Of course, though I never thought it would happen with aliens as equals" said Mortis, "much has changed since you killed Baras, Wrath."

"Only for the better Mortis," Vowrawn quickly added.

Wrath kept silent, uninterested in participating in the conversation. He might have withdrawn entirely into his mind if he did not suddenly sense the presence of his master.

" **We will have to finish this discussion another time my lords,"** he interrupted, **"this meeting will be starting soon."**

"Of course," said Vowrawn.

The three council members walked to their respective seats while the Wrath made his way to a new addition recently implemented to the Dark Council's Chambers.

Unlike his predecessor, the Emperor did not enjoy being separated from the Council and thus had a throne for himself installed opposite of the entrance. Placed so that it would be the first thing seen by someone walking in, it stood at the top of a tall flight of obsidian stairs. High enough so that Emperor could see all of the Council and remind them of his place above them. The Wrath's place as his master's right hand was midway up the steps. No seat was provided, as the Wrath preferred to stay on his feet.

The rest of the Dark Council members began streaming in and Wrath mentally took note of each.

First was a human male with visible cybernetic implants on his cheek bones.

 **Master of Expansion and Diplomacy: Darth Ravage**. A distrustful, emotional, and paranoid Sith, never pleased with any outcome unless it directly benefited him. Wrath suspected him to be the weakest Dark Council member on the basis that he was always the one to talk the loudest. Ravage also often made his disdain for aliens very clear. He had no redeeming qualities as far as the Wrath was concerned.

 **Master of Biotic Science: Darth Necris.**

This Darth was human though calling him that was a bit of a stretch as it was entirely possible to mistake him for a droid. The man's skeletal hunched form was supplemented with many cybernetic enhancements, all very visible. Both of the man's arms were clearly cybernetic with no attempt made to apply synthflesh. Another pair of robotic arms attached to his back and constantly loomed over his shoulders. Taking it a step further,Necris's lower jaw had been replaced by one of metal and both his eyes had been put out to be substituted with glowing red replacements.

Beneath his robes it was believed that Necris had replaced his legs as well, though no one could confirm this since the Sith wore a long gown to cover them.

Wrath trusted him as much as he trusted a Wampa not to eat a Tauntaun. The man was sadistic, insane, and held other's interests at the value of a pin. But he was a master of the darkside and damned good at what he did. For that, Wrath believed him to be useful.

The Wrath's thoughts on Necris were banished by the next being to a member of the Dark Council, but like the Wrath a chosen of the Emperor: Darth Jadus.

He was a tall, taller than the Wrath, and broad shouldered with long armored Sith robes and a featureless helmet that hid all of his features. The Wrath often compared Jadus to a monolith, tall, dark, looming, and silently menacing.

The Wrath watched as Jadus made his way to stand at his position left of the Emperor's Throne.

"Lord Wrath."

" **Lord Will."**

In the corner of his eye the Wrath spotted a few of the Dark Council observing the exchange between the Emperor's chosen. Then tension between the two was thick and it drew the attention of masters of the dark side like a Tythonian moon moth to an open flame. Unwilling to give Jadus the satisfaction of his irritation, the Wrath turned his attention back to the remaining council members entering the chamber.

The next to enter was one of the few aliens that now sat on the council, this hulking specimen of a Zabrak had risen through the ranks of the Sith quickly.

 **Master of the Sphere of Military Offense: Darth Dominus.**

He showed himself a brutal and ruthless commander in all the battles he participated in, leading from the front like a warlord of old. It was also reported that the Sith would occasionally dine on flesh taken from the corpses of both fallen enemies and allies.

A blunt instrument if ever the Wrath saw one. As he entered, Dominus spared a glare up towards him. The Wrath saw the hunger behind the Zabrak's eyes, the jealousy of knowing the title of greatest warrior belonged to someone else. Most would have been terrified to have earned the ire of Dominus, the Wrath feared none but the Emperor himself.

Dominus was a brute with some knowledge of sword play. The Wrath had dedicated his life to the mastery of killing. If Dominus ever challenged him for the position at the Emperor's side, he knew what the outcome would be.

Turning to the next to enter, the Wrath saw another alien. This time he was greeted by the sight of a voluptuous blue skinned Nautolan.

 **Master of the Sphere of Military Strategy: Darth Krakana.**

Another alien that had risen through Sith ranks and found a place on the dark council. This female Nautolan had quite a reputation amongst the Sith for her incredible cunning and military intellect. It was said that during her time at the academy, after only one day, the group that she had arrived with had dropped from a dozen acolytes to only three. The other two died after they killed each other in the belief that the other was plotting to murder them. Apparently Krakana had played them all against each other.

Her tactics along with Dominus's command had led the Empire to many victories.

Speaking of which, Karkana walked up to the much larger Zabrak, grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a passionate kiss. The Wrath rolled his eyes and he heard more than a few of the Council groan at the display, Dominus and Karkana showed little care for discomfort of their colleagues.

Instead of watching the two aliens express their passion for one another, the Wrath returned his attention to the other arrivals.

A man with a cane, clothed entirely in voluminous plain black robes, entered and passed by the still entwined alien lovers, barely giving it any notice.

 **Master of the Sphere of Mysteries: Darth Rictus.**

Wrath knew little of this Sith as did just about anyone. All he knew was that the man headed a deadly army of covert operatives and deadly assassins. The Wrath had actually indirectly been responsible for Rictus's promotion to a member of the council following his killing of Rictus's predecessor: Darth Eckage.

 **Master of the Sphere of Sith Philosophy: Darth Aruk.**

This bald dark skinned human man was in charge of spreading Sith teachings and enforcing their code. He led a faithful cult of Sith that could often be found in the academy screaming the code at the top of their lungs and explaining its meaning to all that would listen. The Wrath did not see the need for this Sphere. The man in charge of it was barely impressive either, the Wrath wagered he could break every bone in the man's body with a single blast of the Force.

 **Master of the Sphere of Technology: Darth Karrid.**

This female Falleen has won her spot on the council in a most impressive way. She had had her candidacy pushed forward by Darth Marr but those who opposed her pushed for another, a sith named Darth Gravus. But Darth Karrid outmaneuvered Gravus, she brought him to his knees, and made him beg for mercy. Then she destroyed him.

Wrath saw much potential in her, anyone who was supported by Marr must be able to hold themselves like a true Sith.

The Wrath silently groaned when he saw the last member of the council to enter.

 **Master of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge: Darth Nox.**

Another alien, the first actually, that had climbed the ranks of the Sith and proved the potential that aliens had to be equals. This red skinned Zabrak with horns sprouting out of her jaw length brown hair had killed her predecessor, Darth Thanaton, in ritual combat. The Wrath had not witnessed it himself, but had been told by Marr that it had been an impressive display of power.

Personally, the Wrath found her incredibly arrogant and quite possibly insane. She enjoyed giving herself ostentatious titles such as: Heir to Kallig, Master of the Dead, and Greatest Beauty of the Sith. She irritated him greatly, usually by simply being in the same room as him.

"Wrath, how nice to see you," said Nox as she walked passed him on the way to her seat.

He did not respond.

"Oh, are you still mad at me for engaging in a little buggery with your apprentice and those other acolytes?" she said with mock sympathy.

Still he remained silent, unwilling to give her the pleasure of eliciting a reply. Nox snorted before moving to take her seat.

Finally all twelve of the Dark Council had gathered, that left only the most important member to make their appearance.

" **All bow for the Emperor,"** announced Wrath,

"But we just got to sit down," Nox pointed out smugly. The Wrath shot her a withering glare. Nox rolled her eyes and held up her hands in mock surrender before standing along with the rest of the council.

Then the Emperor entered into the chamber. Every member sensed him approaching long before he entered. Simply being in Emperor's presence was like bathing in the Force itself. It was like being trapped under an ocean that only allowed you to breath out of its own good graces. It was both glorious and terrifying at the same time.

The Wrath fell to one knee as did the rest of the council and **Emperor Revan** finally entered into the chamber.

"You may rise my Dark Lords of the Sith," announced the Emperor as he strode in, stopping in front of his kneeling Wrath. Only then did the Council dare retake their seats and the Wrath and Will dare stand back on their own two feet.

"It is good to see you again my friend," said Revan, placing a hand on the Wrath's shoulders.

"Thank you my lord."

Revan nodded and ascended to his throne.

"This meeting of the Dark Council shall now begin," boomed the Emperor's voice as he sat down, "we are here to discuss only one subject. The final push in our long conquest, the final battle of this war, the planet of Coruscant. In only a few weeks the entire Imperial Armada will invade the capital world of the Republic and finally secure the dominance of the Sith Empire throughout the galaxy."

"This is a momentous day my Emperor," agreed Darth Marr, "you shall have our complete and total support for the coming battle."

"I too am quite overjoyed for the coming conquest," added Vowrawn.

"Indeed," said the Emperor, "I have gathered you here to finalize your roles in the coming battle. Darth Marr, Darth Karrid."

"Yes my Emperor," said Darth Marr,

"My master," bowed Karrid,

"You both shall be in charge of the armada as it encompasses the planet and ensures that no space worthy vessel makes it off planet. Any attempt to flee will result in failure, any ship approaching the blockade will be reduced to ash."

"By your will my Emperor," replied Marr,

"We shall rain fire down upon their cities," assured Karrid.

"As always, Darth Dominus and Darth Krakana shall lead our ground forces," continued the Emperor, "your main assault will be focused on the political district. Push your forces to take the city and secure the senate building."

"Their forces will burn my Emperor. Our armies will bathe in Republic blood and carve your glory into their flesh!" roared Dominus as jumped to his feet in fervor, "none of their forces shall be left standing! The entire planet shall feel the weight of our power!"

"Dominus mirrors my own thoughts," Krakana said curtly, "our victory will be absolute."

"Excellent," said the Emperor, "but this battle will be for more than the planet. Jadus, share with the Council what Imperial Intelligence has discovered."

"Yes my Lord," the tall Darth took the stage. "My spies have managed to infiltrate the very deepest depths of the Republic secrets. We have wormed our way in, extending our influence throughout their entire network. Through this we have made a most fascinating discovery."

Jadus pulled out a small holoprojector and held it out for all to see. He activated and played a small clip of a man having a conversation with an unknown person. Judging from his dress, he was Republic Commander, most likely someone high up.

" _With respect Supreme Commander the discovery of the anomaly is the single most important thing that has ever happened since the beginning of this war. We are talking about unknown alien technology, real unknown technology. If we can reverse engineer it we could catch the Empire off guard and turn this war around!"_

The recording stopped and Jadus put the projector away.

"unknown technology?" asked Mortis, "how very interesting."

"Indeed," mused Darth Necris, his voice horribly warped by his cybernetic vocal cords "I would enjoy seeing this anomaly. It's secrets could prove a boon for Empire."

"Return to your experiments Necris, as master of the sphere of technology this discovery would fall to me," said Darth Karrid.

The red mechanical eyes of Necris fell upon Karrid. The Falleen put up an admirable display of not shirking under the cyborg's gaze. But the analyzers inside of his eyes caught the slight twitches of her brow, the beads of perspiration developing on her skin.

"Enough!" declared Revan, breaking the contest. "Necris, Darth Karrid is correct, this discovery falls under her sphere of influence."

Necris held his gaze for a moment before finally relenting and bowing to the Emperor. "As you decree."

Karrid let loose an imperceptible breath of relief, then said "whatever it is, if the Republic's scientist think they can reverse engineer this new technology. Then so can I."

"Darth Jadus," said the Emperor, "you are to use your resources to handle this mission. I place the gathering of any data relevant to this anomaly in your care. Use any means necessary"

"Yes my lord."

"The next piece of this battle is a most important target, the Jedi Temple. With their sanctuary on Tython destroyed, the Jedi have relocated back into their ruined Temple on Coruscant. There are holocrons there with Jedi teachings from some of their most revered masters. They must be destroyed."

"I volunteer for this mission my lord," stood Darth Nox, "I do enjoy fighting Jedi and would revel in the chance to destroy their precious history."

"I too will see to this task," stated Darth Aurk, "the Jedi's blasphemous teachings must be destroyed!"

Revan nodded. "Very well, Nox, Aurk, you will be given charge of this task. I care not how it is accomplished but every trace of the Jedi in that temple must be eradicated!"

"Yes my Emperor, when I am done any trace of Jedi's teachings will be but dust," assured Nox.

"Their heresy will be put to the torch!" Aurk all but spat.

"Then that only leaves the final task," said the Emperor, "the capture of Supreme Chancellor Leotyne Saresh."

"Capture the Supreme Chancellor my Emperor? What use is she?" asked Ravage, "would it not be better to simply kill her?"

"No, at least not immediately Darth Ravage. We will first capture her, after that we will force her to officially surrender the Republic to the Empire. Her surrender will break the morale of their armies and ease the remaining Republic planets under our control without having to waste resources quelling them," explained the Emperor.

"And who shall complete this task?" asked Vowrawn,

"I have already decided, this task shall be given to my Wrath."

The Wrath turned to his Emperor and fell to one knee, "My Emperor, I am honored and will see to it that your will is carried out."

"My emperor, I would never question your judgement," said Darth Aruk, "but assigning a single man? Even if that man is as powerful as the Wrath, shouldn't more be allocated to such a crucial part of our invasion?"

"I will be enough Aruk, nothing the Republic throws at me will be enough to keep me away from the chancellor," assured Wrath,

"You may be powerful Wrath, but you are still flesh and blood," Aruk shot back, "when you were sent to kill Jedi Master Satele, you came back bloodied and near death. Even more it is rumored that you payed respect to her by giving her a Jedi's funeral. I would go as far as to say that you are sympathetic to the Jedi and that your devotion to the dark side is-"

The Dark Council member's words died in his throat when the Wrath reached out hand towards him. Aruk tugged on his collar as he vainly attempted to pull air through his lungs but to no avail. Wrath's grip on his throat was absolute. Gradually Aruk began to gag and even fell to his knees as his life slowly ebbed away.

"I find your lack of faith disturbing," the Wrath commented glibly.

The other members of the Council simply watched, except Nox who was busy stifling her giggles. Just as Aruk seemed to be about to become one with the Force, the Emperor raised his hand.

"Enough of this," ordered Revan, "Wrath! Release him!"

"As you wish," Wrath lowered his hand and Aruk finally had enough freedom to gasp for air, practically drinking it in massive gulps. Massaging his throat, Aruk pitifully climbed back into his throne.

"You have your orders my Dark Lords, this meeting is thus concluded. May we all meet on the field of victory," said the Emperor, "dismissed."

* * *

With the meeting ended, the Dark Council members and Jadus left to their individual tasks. The Wrath however, stayed behind to accompany the Emperor and his escort of guards back to their ship. On the way out Vette fell in step behind Wrath, wisely keeping any smart remarks she had to herself for the moment.

"You seem more on edge than usual," noted Revan, "any other time you would have simply cuffed Aruk against his throne."

"I apologize my master," said Wrath, "it was not my intention to cause you displeasure. I will-"

"You caused me no displeasure Wrath," assured The Emperor "but I am beginning to worry for you."

His master's concern gave the Wrath pause. It was rare that a Sith have a master who saw him as little more than a tool or rival.

"Do not trouble yourself with such trivial matters my Master, I am fine," Revan noted that his Wrath spoke as though he'd memorized that line,

"Trivial? You are my most valued asset Wrath. You helped me ascend to the throne of Emperor and you have served faithfully ever since," said Revan, "your condition is anything but trivial. I cannot afford to lose you during such a critical time."

"I am still ready to serve my Master," Wrath repeated as they came upon the Emperor's shuttle where his personal guard had waited. "I will capture the Supreme Chancellor and force her surrender."

"I am pleased to hear that Wrath," said Revan, stopping at the foot of the ship's ramp. "Still, I worry for you wellbeing."

The Wrath shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Darth Vowrawn spoke similarly before the Council meeting."

"Did he? I should not be surprised, Vowrawn has always had a vested interest in you."

"He is a faithful ally," agreed the Wrath.

Revan grunted in agreement. "Wrath, have you taken an apprentice as of late?"

"No my master."

"It has been some time has it not, the last was…"

"Jaesa Willsaam my lord."

"Ah yes. Perhaps you should take this chance to visit the academy and see if there are any promising acolytes."

"Master?"

"I could order you to find a hobby. But I know you well enough that it would be cruel of me to do so. So instead I ask that you begin the work of spreading my teachings to the next generation of Sith"

"Master I-"

"It will give yourself something to concentrate on, a diversion if you will," explained Revan, "and under your tutelage a new weapon for the Empire will be forged."

Wrath nodded, "yes my master."

The Emperor then ascended the ramp to his ship along with his guard. The ship's engine soon roared to life and the ship itself was up in the air, leaving Wrath alone on the landing pad.

After simply standing in the same spot for nearly a full five minutes thinking on his Emperor's orders, the Wrath descended from the landing pad to find Vette waiting patiently.

"So, what are we doing now?" asked Vette,

Without responding the Wrath marched his way down to the lower landing pads where fresh new recruits or slaves were sent to Overseers for inspection. Vette, not really having any choice, followed afterwards.

As he walked, the Wrath recalled that he himself had taken his first steps into the academy on one such landing pad. He remembered exiting his ship, looking around the desolate wastes of Korriban, and drinking in the dark side energy that filled the place.

Of course, back then it had made him feel ill.

* * *

"Listen up Acolytes! You are here because you have the potential to become apprentices to the most powerful beings in the galaxy. You are here because it is possible that the great lords of the Sith may grace you with their presence and possibly consider even speaking to one of you specks of dust!" barked Overseer Loun, "now, you will report to me every day and I will provide you with trials. You will complete these trials or die trying. Only one of you will live to become more than an acolyte, the rest of you will most likely die."

" **Well said overseer."** The Wrath moved up and made his presence known to the gathered.

"My Lord Wrath!" Loun immediately bowed upon noticing him, "Acolytes bow! You gaze upon the epitome of the Dark Side, the Wrath of the Emperor!"

Every acolyte immediately dropped to their knees.

" **Rise Overseer Loun,"** ordered the the Wrath.

"Yes my lord, thank you my lord," said Loun, "how may I be of service to you this day?"

" **The Emperor has advised me that I take an apprentice to hone into a weapon for the Empire,"** replied Wrath **, "I have come to see what is offered."**

"Of course my lord, of course," bowed Loun, "it is a great honor to be of assistance."

Behind his mask, the Wrath's eyes rolled. He had no stomach for those that lowered themselves like this before superiors, then strutted around like royalty before those under them. Perhaps it was the Sith way but Wrath found it rather nauseating.

"Please, feel free to do whatever you need to find the perfect apprentice," Loun then turned to the acolytes, "acolytes! Present yourselves!"

The acolytes formed a neat line, standing shoulder to shoulder. The Wrath crossed his arms and began to move down the line. It was a rather random assortment of beings, about half were human while the other half were aliens.

Amongst them were a Twi'lek, a Rodian, and a Cathar, all of which were rather unimpressive to behold. There was a rather fearsome looking Trandoshan among their ranks, tall, gray scales, and a great many scars. The oversized lizard also wore what looked like a wookiee pelt on his right shoulder. The Wrath decided he had some potential. One of the Purebloods also seemed possible, he was bald, had a beard made of small tentacles, and had a single prosthetic arm and a prosthetic lower jaw.

Among the humans, none save one stood out. A tall dark skinned man, well muscled with hair tied up into dreadlocks that reached midway down his shoulders. The Wrath made a mental note to keep an eye on him. As expected he found a few that were all nerves. A frail looking woman who looked like she'd barely turned eighteen and a red haired man who seemed to be ready to wet himself.

The Wrath purposefully stopped before these two. The man immediately tensed, his knees even started to buckle. Experimentally the Wrath took a step closer and the man turned pale white, the woman next to him actually dropped to the ground having fainted. Behind him the Wrath heard Overseer Loun slap her palm against her forehead and Vette suppress a snicker of amusement.

The woman was young and so her lack of courage could be forgiven. But this man, he was a mewling waste of the Force and did not deserve to even enter the hallowed halls of the academy. The Wrath reached his hand out and called out to the Force. Most familiar with the dark side would have assumed he was preparing to use the Force to choke the poor man or electrocute him with lightning.

Instead, wispy red streams of power became visible between the Sith's hand and the victim's body. The streams were few at first but quickly increased in numbers and intensity. The man began to scream as his very life began to literally flow away before his very eyes. The Wrath was demonstrating a power few Sith knew of, the ability to drain life using the force.

In less than a minute, the Wrath had completely drained the acolyte of all his life and taken it for himself. The man's withered husk of a body fell to the ground, looking more like a skeleton with skin than a proper corpse.

The Wrath felt a spike of amusement at seeing the horrified faces of all the other acolytes as they stared at the now corpse like body of their former fellow acolyte.

" **Try not to be like him,"** The Wrath stated bluntly.

"An excellent display of power my lord, truly you are-"

" **Give these Acolytes their trials and take that one off the line,"** he pointed to the fainted young woman. **"She hasn't the mettle to be Sith, have her serve the academy as an assistant instead."**

"Oh, of course my lord." Loun immediately began doling out the Acolytes trials and calling for some assistants to help with the girl. The tasks were familiar to the Wrath, things such as sending them into caves to talk to hermits, retrieving old tablets, killing a few of the local fauna, torturing prisoners, etc.

It was amusing seeing the process from the other side. Perhaps this task would not prove to be as troublesome as he had first thought.

* * *

The Wrath stood stoically on the landing pad overlooking the ruins of Korriban. Beneath his helmet, the Sith's eyes followed the activities of those below him. Acolytes scurrying around to finish their trials, Overseers barking at any stupid enough to be inactive, it brought back many memories. Some of them were pleasant, but most of them were painful.

"I think we met on a day like this didn't we?" asked Vette, breaking the silence, "then again, I don't think the weather on this planet changes at all so maybe all days are like the one we met."

" **How very observant,"** replied Wrath,

"Yup, that's me...Ms. Observant," Vette with her usual glibness.

A few minutes of silence passed that consisted of Wrath continuing to stare out over Korriban and Vette entertaining herself by squishing the heads of the distant figures with her fingers.

"So," said Vette, breaking the silence again, "which one do you think will make it?"

Wrath did not respond, opting instead to remain silent.

"My money's on that big Trandoshan. Mean looking guy, looks like he's been in quite a few scraps," she tried.

Wrath said nothing.

"Oh come on, live a little. You must have some opinion," begged Vette.

Wrath let out a low sigh and relented. **"The pureblood seems like a viable option, he is clearly battle hardened. But the dark skinned human is also possibility."**

"Yeah, they looked pretty mean too," admitted Vette. Then she changed the subject, "how about that Overseer huh?"

The Wrath actually turned to face her, though clearly it was out of confusion more than anything else. **"Loun? What about her?"**

"She's kinda pretty right?"

No response.

"Good height, nice hips, got a figure, and definitely…." Vette imitated the panting of a dog.

" **What's your point?"**

"You gonna go for it?"

The Wrath actually recoiled in revulsion. **"Why would I want to do that?"**

Vette shrugged. "She's a good looking and willing woman. I figured you'd be all over that."

" **She's not my type."**

Her curiosity piqued, Vette tried to think back to the few times that she could remember the Wrath displaying interest towards a woman.

There was Taunt, from her old gang from back in the day. That had actually amounted to, what Vette assumed, had been some physical intimacy. _Ew, now I'm getting mental images._

As Vette tried to shake the pictures of Taunt and the Wrath doing the nasty, Overseer Loun returned.

"My lord," said Overseer Loun, "the acolytes have returned, I thought you'd like to see which are still alive. Perhaps provide another demonstration."

Vette thought that the overseer was perhaps a little too eager to see the Wrath kill another acolyte. _She probably gets off to that kind of stuff_.

The Wrath simply grunted and followed the Overseer, Vette in tow, to her office where the remaining acolytes were gathered. True to the predictions of both the Wrath and Vette, the Trandoshan, Pureblood, and dark skinned human were both alive, along with a few others.

Rather unsurprising.

Wrath scanned them, all held up against his gaze though none met it.

"Perhaps you would like to decide their next trial my lord?"

The Wrath turned his gaze upon the Overseer and she immediately lowered her eyes.

"Forgive me my lord, of course, such things are below your station. I will do my duty immediately," she stuttered nervously. Taking her position behind her desk, she assigned the various acolytes their various tasks.

The Wrath left to go back to watching over Korriban.

Vette joined him of course and continued to squish the heads while trying to remember other instances of the Wrath having an interest.

 _Let's see...there was that one...nah...or how about...no...Oh! There was that blonde…._

* * *

After listening to Loun give the acolytes their next trials, the Wrath had returned with Vette to their ledge that overlooked the ruins of Korriban. Beneath his helmet the Sith closed his eyes and allowed himself to take in the dark side energy surrounding him. He was graced with at least ten minutes of blissful brooding before being interrupted.

" **Vette, go back to the ship."**

"Huh?"

Wrath turned around and laid eyes upon her, his glare was scalding even from behind his mask. But Vette could tell that it was a glare not meant for her.

" **Go now,"** he ordered tersely. Vette followed his eyes and quickly understood his meaning and immediately made herself scarce. As soon as the Twi'lek was a comfortable distance away, Wrath greeted his fellow Sith. **"Darth Jadus, to what do I owe the pleasure."**

From out of the shadows of the academy, the Will revealed himself.

"Do not sound so crass, Wrath. You have only but yourself to blame for this intrusion," replied Jadus in an even tone.

Underneath his mask the Wrath scowled. He hated the man's ability to always keep his voice level and emotionless. It made it hard for even the most perceptive being to get a beat on the Sith. It was made worse by the fact that Jadus was one of the few beings in the galaxy not afraid of him.

"Myself?" asked the Wrath, "and what exactly have I done?"

"You know fully well," replied Jadus, again in monotone though he somehow also made it sound mocking. "You are the Emperor's Wrath. You enforce his laws and carry out his sentences. For those amongst the ranks that step out of line, you must ensure never do so again."

"Is there a point to your description of my duties?"

"Darth Aruk is sniveling, cowardly, waste of human flesh. He does not deserve his seat amongst the most powerful of our kind. Yet it is not up to you to decide where or when the blade must fall. It is the Emperor's. Had Lord Revan not intervened, a seat would be open on the Dark Council."

"I would have been doing us a favor. If a Council member can fall so easily then he should not have been on the Council in the first place."

"That may be, but the matter remains: you acted out of turn."

"I acted according to the beliefs and philosophy of our kind. The weak are left to die and the strong continue on. It is our way."

"It was not always this way, you know this to be true. Before us, before Revan took the throne, our kind was slowly destroying itself. It was not easy for us to turn the Council to our new order, to make our dream a realization. Though they are complacent right now, they can still be pushed to rebelling."

"If that happens, I'll simply carry out my duty."

"I would rather you not. It was no small feat to bring us here today. I will not have everything we have accomplished destroyed by YOUR lack of discipline."

That struck a nerve with Wrath. His lack of discipline?! How dare Jadus accuse him of losing focus, of breaking the mold that he had dedicated years towards creating. The Wrath's anger spiked and with it came a brief pulse of Force energy that would have sent a lesser being hurdling away.

With clenched teeth, the Wrath turned to face the Will.

"Give me one. Good. Reason. Why I shouldn't peel the skin off your bones right now!" he growled.

"Because had it not been for me, you would still be serving THAT mad man. You would have been the tool of a lunatic obsessed with achieving immortality and stuck in the ways of a long forgotten age."

Reluctantly, Wrath forced his anger to subside.

"You forget yourself Jadus, were it not for the Emperor neither of us would be where we are right now." He began walking towards the taller Sith, his stride emanating confidence. "That is why he has ascended to the throne and we have become his servants."

"Yet it is because of us that he could ascend at all," countered Jadus.

"True, but we still follow him. Because amongst my strength and your intellect, he holds something much more powerful: vision. He is the visionary amongst the warrior and the sorcerer."

Jadus remained silent.

"You, are **The Will,** " continued Wrath, pointing a finger on Jadus's chest, "and I am **The** **Wrath**. You give his vision form, and I give it force!"

He jabbed his finger against Jadus' chest and said, "we are not allies because we enjoy each other's company. But rather because another unites us in a cause we both believe in. Never forget that Jadus and never forget that you are not the only one who understands what the Emperor wants."

With that said, the Wrath roughly pushed passed his colleague and began walking back to Overseer Loun's office. Along the way he signaled to Vette that it was safe to come out.

"Wow," breathed Vette, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow, "that was tense."

" **You should know better than to listen in on my conversations."**

"Conversation? Is that what you call that? I don't know about other people but to me that sounded more like you two were comparing the sizes of your lightsabers."

" **Don't let me catch eavesdropping again."**

"Awww, scared I'll get caught in the crossfire."

" **No. But you should be."**

* * *

It wasn't too long before the acolytes returned from their trials.

Unsurprisingly, their numbers had once again been whittled down.

Also unsurprising was the fact that the Trandoshan, Pureblood, and dark skinned human were among the survivors.

What was surprising however, was that there were four other survivors.

Given the timeframe he'd given the Overseer and the difficulty of the trials they'd been put through, the Wrath had fully expected to see only the first three alive. Yet here there were seven in total.

Very surprising, but not unpleasant.

"My Lord," bowed the Overseer, "I was just about to assign the acolytes their next trial, I assure you that this next one will definitely decide which of them is worthy of becoming-"

" **I have another idea,"** he cut in.

"Oh! Of course my Lord, what kind of trial would you like to put these acolytes through?"

" **How many warblades does the armory have?"**

"My Lord?"

" **Warblades Overseer!"** he snapped, **"how many?"**

"I am, unsure my lord. Permit me to go check."

" **Do it, bring back one for each of these hopefuls."**

Overseer Loun bowed and went off to accomplish the given task. A few minutes later and she came back with two servants carrying the warblades.

" **Give them their weapons,"** he ordered.

Loun bowed again and nodded to the servants to complete the task.

Each of the acolytes was given a vibrosword to replace the practice blade they'd arrived with.

" **Acolytes,"** began Wrath, **"you have been armed and now you will be given your trial. You will be lead to a pit, an arena. There you will fight to survive against whatever adversities I choose. No matter how many or how powerful your opponents might be, you will fight. Die, and you will be forgotten. But survive and you will be given a chance at greatness."**

The Wrath then nodded to the Overseer who then proceeded to lead the way to the arena.

If nothing else, this would be very amusing.

* * *

The acolytes had been gathered into the arena. Above the Overseer and the Wrath presided over like judges about to deliver a verdict. Loun waited for the Wrath's command for the beasts to be let loose.

" **Release the Massiff first,"** he ordered,

The arena master, an old portly human, nodded and pulled lever. Three gates opened up, allowing a dozen reptilian canines with hard quill like spikes along their backs and hungry mouths full of sharp teeth into the arena. The beasts had been given just enough food to survive, but too little to remember being satisfied. Now with fresh warm meat in front of them, they were eager to gorge themselves.

The Trandoshan jumped right into the fray, he claimed the first kill by skewering the lead Massiff through the stomach as it pounced at him.

The rest of the acolytes followed his lead.

Within a five minutes, the beasts were dead but all of the acolytes still remained. The only real casualty was that the human male -not the dark skinned one- had sustained a scratch along his back.

" **A good start,"** nodded the Wrath with satisfaction, **"unleash the Nexu."**

Another gate opened and three of the gigantic feline predators leapt into the arena. The acolyte that had sustained the first injury was helpless as one of the beasts leapt atop him and sank its teeth into his neck. Blood gushed out into the Nexu's mouth as it hungrily fed upon its prey.

The other two moved to catch their own meal, but the acolytes were now wise to the danger of these predators. To the Wrath's surprise, no other acolytes died to the beasts, though a few sustained injuries.

Then came the Reek, large reptilian bovine. Fed a diet of meat by the beast masters in order to increase their aggressiveness. When let loose the acolytes made the mistake of trying to form a circle. The Reek simply charged through heedless of their formation. The female Rattataki turned out to be the slowest and she paid for by being gouged on a cheek horn and then trampled.

Once again however the acolytes quickly adapted. The dark skinned human with dreadlocks in particular.

More than likely the man came from a planet where there were similar beasts because he was the first to kill one of the reptilian bovine.

Once the Reek were dead the Acklay were sent in, huge carnivores native to Felucia. A mixture of crustacean, insect, and reptile, it was a dangerous foe. The Sith Pureblood had been the one to die then. Skewered on the Acklay's claws then his body torn in half between two mouths.

Now just the dark skinned human, the cathar, and the Trandoshan lived.

"Oh, my poor beasties," sniffled the beastmaster.

" **You will be reimbursed,"** assured the Wrath, which put the man in much better moods.

What to release on them this time?

A rancor perhaps? Maybe the wampa? Or perhaps a Terentatek?

Suddenly the beastmaster came up to the Wrath and whispered into his ear. What she had to say intrigued the Wrath, he nodded to the woman.

" **This is the last wave. Survive this and you will have proven you have what it takes to be Sith,"** announced Wrath, **"fail and be forgotten to time."**

The gates opened to reveal the acolytes final test.

Out stepped, not beasts, but humanoids.

One a human the other a Twi'lek, both stank of the light side of the force and were armed with durasteel vibroblades.

"These are Jedi padawan, captured during the burning of Tython. Kill them and you will earn your place."

The Trandoshan as always was the first to attack.

The padawans immediately took a combat stance.

"Please, step away! We do not wish to harm you!"

Their pleas fell on deaf ears. The Trandoshan swung his blade at the Jedi. Both easily avoided his attack. There was a flash of steel and the Trandoshan fell to the ground, dead.

Wrath smiled as he saw the remaining two acolytes prepare themselves. This would be interesting.

* * *

"Poodoo" muttered Vette as she watched the Trandoshan get cut down. _Ah well, not like I bet money on him or anything_.

Vette moved to concede defeat to her master, when suddenly Overseer Loun intercepted her.

"Twi'lek," she began in that same imperious tone she used with the acolytes, "you are the Wrath's servant yes?"

"Yeeeeaaah," Vette replied cautiously.

"Quite the honor," Loun said.

"I guess."

"Tell me, how did you become part of the Wrath's retinue?"

 _I became his slave_ is what Vette thought of saying but figured it wasn't an answer that Loun would have accepted. So instead she said, "I helped him break into one of the ancient tombs around here."

Loun's eyes lit up as though she'd discovered enlightenment. "Ah! I see, you proved your worth to him!"

"...sure."

"Then do you think perhaps, if I prove my worth to the Wrath I too could become part of his retinue?" Vette was surprised at how genuinely hopeful the overseer sounded.

"Uh...maybe, he's not exactly holding auditions…" Vette looked at the arena, "well, he is but not for anything beyond an apprentice."

Loun's smile vanished replaced with a crest fallen pout. _Damn it._

"But you never know!" added Vette, "prove yourself enough and he might just make an exception!"

Loun's smile returned almost instantly. "Yes! Of course you are correct! I must not wait for the right to stand next to him. I must make it my right! You truly understand the ways of the Sith Twi'lek."

"I really don't," said Vette, but Loun seemed not to hear Twi'lek from inside her own little world.

"Thank you Twi'lek, I shall make this the sole purpose of my existence, this I swear!"

Vette subtly edged away from the clearly insane Pureblood and turned her attention back to the arena.

* * *

Surprising, very surprising.

Both Jedi padawan now lay dead and both remaining acolytes were still alive. The dark skinned human had been expected, but the female Cathar? The Wrath was not too proud to admit that he had fully believed she would be one of the first to die, she was after all a slender and unassuming thing.

But during the fight she had proved an impressive swordswoman, displaying advanced applications of Forms II and III. The dark skinned human had also showed his mettle, though his strength lay less in finesse like the Cathar and more in pure savage aggression.

Both had handled their opponents well and without as much struggle as he had expected.

It was enough to produce a slow clap from him.

Both acolytes looked up to him and upon seeing his applause, saluted with their blade in thanks.

Gracefully, the Wrath dropped down from above and landed in the arena right in front of the acolytes.

" **Impressive, most impressive. You have both proven yourselves worthy to become Sith. While it is unusual, it is not unprecedented for a lord to take two apprentices and I will not waste promising talent on attempting to appease tradition. Any who object shall answer to me. State your names."**

"I am Zhaff Passik, my lord," said the tall dark skinned human male, he immediately fell to one knee.

"I am called Marshalla my lord," said the Cathar, she too kneeled.

" **Rise,"** the Wrath commanded and so they did, **"gather your belongings and report to my ship in one hour. There we will discuss your futures."**

The two made a final bow and exited the arena. The Wrath leapt back up to the observation post where Vette and Loun were waiting for him.

"Two huh?" commented Vette, "you going for quantity over quality?"

" **No, I've acquired both,"** he replied simply.

"If you say so. Still, it'll be nice to have some extra company around the ship. Even if it's two more Sith. Hope they aren't crazy like the last one."

Behind his mask the Wrath raised a brow. **"Indeed."**

"My lord I hope I was even the tiniest help in your search," Loun almost begged.

" **You performed your duties adequately Overseer Loun."**

An all too visible shiver of pleasure ran up the overseer's spine **.** "Thank you my lord! Thank you!"

Behind her Vette visibly gagged.

* * *

Upon entering his ship, the Wrath was immediately greeted by his servant droid whom he ordered to go prepare two rooms. On the note of his two new apprentices, he would need to make sure they were properly armed. It would not do for apprentices of the Emperor's Wrath to carry around common blades instead of proper lightsabers.

Normally he would have them forge their own weapons as he once did. But given the impending attack on Coruscant he would have to provide them suitable placeholders until such a time that they could make their own.

To accomplish this he entered his personal chambers. Standing opposite from his bed, the wall was covered from knee to ceiling with lightsabers, a monument to his accomplishments as a warrior. The most recent count showed 257 lightsabers, all taken from slain Sith and Jedi.

Every morning that he woke his trophies were the first thing he saw, to remind him of his journey, of how he became to be who he was. Gently he ran the knuckle of his index finger over a lightsaber at chest height on the column closest to the door. It was a lightsaber of simple and conservative make, the only decoration being a thin piece of rope with three feathers attached to the end. It had once belonged to Jedi Master Yonlach, the first Jedi Master he'd ever killed.

On the column over at the same height was a darker weapon that had once belonged to the former Dark Council member Darth Ekkage. Though it had been in the service of his former master Vitiate, it had been one of Wrath's proudest moments. It had also brought him great pleasure for Ekkage had been the sister of another former master: Darth Baras.

Speaking of Baras, the man's weapon held its position just under his sister's. A reminder of the day the Wrath had confronted his former master in the Dark Council chambers as the Emperor's Wrath. It had been most satisfying to drive his saber through the old man's heart. Upon touch it the Wrath could still feel the lingering pain of the old man's last moments.

Passing the rest, the Wrath came upon the only trophy that was placed on its own pedestal. This one in particular held special value to the Wrath.

It was the saberstaff of Jedi Grand Master Satele Shan.

After her death at his hands he had searched the temple for the two broken pieces of her weapon that he himself had cut in half. Upon acquiring them he had been reassembled them into the weapon's original state. It had taken effort but in the end he had mended the two back together into a perfect picture of what it had been before.

Now it was his trophy, a reminder of his pain, and of his hate.

He ran a single finger along the length of the weapon and like other times he found himself confused. He sensed pity and grief. But it wasn't grief that she had been killed, it was...for someone else.

Shaking his head of the nostalgia, Wrath searched for two that he could bare to part with. Eventually he found them, the lightsaber that had once belonged to Darth Rathari, a Sith he had killed in service to Baras, and the one that had belonged to rather arrogant Jedi whose name he could not recall.

Wishing for his apprentice to have a proper Sith weapon he replaced the blue crystal inside the Jedi's weapon with a synthetic red one. He finished just in time as he heard his servant droid greet his two new apprentices. Gathering the two weapons, he went to greet them.

He found them in the communications room where his droid was giving them the usual tour it gave to everyone.

" **Apprentices,"** he said, announcing his presence. Both bowed immediately upon seeing him.

Now that they were his to command, Wrath was able to get a better look at both of them.

The human was tall, standing a good inch or so above Wrath, muscled with a body that told a story of constant struggle, and had a hardened look in his eye that spoke of a comfort with taking life. His hair was braided into dreadlocks that reached the small of his back, an uncommon hair length for most warriors. Oddly the human had refused acolyte attire, instead choosing to be naked from the waist up with only a bone necklace around his neck. Overall he reminded the Wrath of a great feline predator he had seen on a jungle planet, strong and proud.

The Cathar was the opposite as far as physical appearances went. Her fur was a healthy tan color, interrupted occasionally by darker brown spots along her face and neck. She was shorter than both Wrath and the Zhaff, slimmer as well. Her dark brown hair was braided into a singular long ponytail and was long enough to reach to her shoulders . To the Wrath her stance and body seemed more suited for a dancer than a warrior. However like her human counterpart, the Wrath saw that her feline eyes saw a hungry darkness beneath the surface.

A good a start as any.

" **This ship will serve as your home,"** began the Wrath, **"it is here you will sleep, eat, train, and commune with the dark side."**

He then held out the lightsabers he had brought for them.

" **Your new weapons,"** he explained. Zhaff took Rithari's immediately and activated it, performing a few practice swings to get a feel for its weight.

Marshalla on the other hand seemed a bit hesitant, it was brief but there. She did eventually claim her weapon and activate it. She seem enraptured by the crimson blade, like a child who had just found a new toy.

" **Training with them begins immediately,"** announced Wrath, **"the droid shall show you to the training room. There you will practice with the training remotes to acquaint yourselves with blaster deflection. They are locked at level 8 intensity, you will not walk away unharmed. Do you understand?"**

"Yes master," they both replied,

" **Good."** The two took that as their cue to leave, but the Wrath held up a hand for them to pause.

" **Remember,"** he began, **"you two have been given a chance that few even dare hope for. You have made it this far, but that does not mean your position is secure. If I find either of you lacking in any way, it will not be difficult to find replacements."**

With that subtle threat hanging over them, the Wrath allowed them to leave.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello everybody! How about that? An update just a week after the first.** **This one had less action than the previous one, but I felt that it was necessary in order to build more of the story. The next update, which shall involve the attack on Coruscant, will be ALL action.**

 **So tell me, what do you think of Revan being Emperor of the Sith?**

 **My OC's haven't been around for very long but what do you think of them? What do you think of the Wrath? What do you think of Nox?**

 **Did I do good on getting Vette's personality?**

 **Again I apologize if you are hankering for the Mass Effect crossover part to start, but I did warn you that the first couple of chapters would not have Mass Effect stuff in it. I promise that by at least the fifth update we will have Commander Shepard.**

 **That's all for now.**

 **Please review and tell me what you thought!**

 **Bye Bye!**


	3. Prologue: The Second Battle of Coruscant

**Star Wars is the property of Lucas Arts and Disney. Mass Effect is property of EA and BioWare.**

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 _Old on Griffin: I'm glad you caught that!_

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 _fdsadsaw: No real plans for any sort of romance concerning the Wrath right now, but we'll see in the future._

 _Kakaski: I'm glad that you're enjoying the story so far! You're theories as to the future are welcome and fear not, I have had a lot of time to think about how I'm writing this story and have already planned out how the Sith Empire runs into the Mass Effect galaxy. I don't want to spoil anything just now, but I can say it involves something to do with hyperspace and ancient technology._

 _Thank you all for your reviews!_

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Prologue pt.3 - The Second Battle of Coruscant**

* * *

 **Coruscant - Capital World of the Galactic Republic**

 **The Jedi Temple**

For Jedi Master Trey Wyse-Mon, walking in the ruins of the Coruscant Jedi Temple was a mixture of fascinating and haunting.

It was humbling to walk in the same halls his predecessors had once walked. To see all that the Jedi had once built, to see their former glory. Even in ruins the architecture was breath takingly beautiful. Trey could only imagine what it must have been like in its undefiled state before the sacking, before the Empire.

Yet even in its ruined state it served as a sanctuary for the Jedi. After having lost Tython, the remaining Jedi had sought sanctuary here on Coruscant. It seemed like the will of the Force that past restoration efforts had cleared just enough room for what remained of the order.

But even with this new refugee the Jedi order was dwindling. The war had already cost many Jedi their lives and in recent years their losses had only grown greater. Their order was not even a fraction of what it had once been, only about ten thousand Jedi remained, and with the recent loss of Grandmaster Shan moral for the order was at an all-time low.

Still, even with everything that was going on, Trey still found time to do what he loved most: explore.

With some free time on his hands he had decided to explore more of the temple, which had led him to this grand hallway.

He touched a single hand to pillar and breathed in heavily.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

It was old and ruined, much like the rest of the temple. Cracks snaked themselves from its base to the ceiling, gouges from stray lightsaber strikes, and pock marks from stray blaster shots dotted its once perfect smooth surface. Truthfully it was little more than a ruined piece of stone. But Trey treated it with the reverence of the rarest gem in the galaxy.

"What do you see?" asked his Togruta companion, Master Bela Kiwiiks.

Being a Miraluka, Trey did not see like other beings. He and his entire race saw purely through application of the Force, and when one had a connection to the Force as strong as his own you could see beyond the material, beyond what mere eyes could gift.

Trey's hand brushed the dust that covered the pillar's decorative artwork, a simple brown floral pattern.

"History," he whispered.

Trey's vision became a sea of beautiful golden light. As though they were alive and occupying the same space as he, Trey saw the outlines of Jedi who had passed by this pillar before.

He saw young female Twi'lek, fresh from being chosen as a Padawan, her heart racing with glee as she ran down the hall.

He saw a youngling. Lost and unsure of himself, but too afraid to ask the multitude of Jedi around him for directions.

He saw an elderly master. Age had thinned his muscles and a pang of nostalgia struck his mind as he saw all the young ones playfully dancing around him with an energy he once too had possessed.

Trey moved his hand to gently traced a finger along a web of cracks and his whimsical smile faltered.

"Pain."

The golden light was suddenly replaced by a flood of blood red and Trey nearly released the pillar from pure shock.

He saw the same female Twi'lek, now a Jedi Knight, thrown against this very pillar. Her spine shattered upon impact, but she was left alive to suffer her injury. That is until a figure in dark robes walked up to her and finished her off.

He saw the same youngling crying, not able to understand why the Temple was on fire or why everyone around him was dying.

He saw the old master, mournfully cradling the form of a former student.

Trey quickly moved his hand, the Force guiding it lower until he touched its base. The red shifted and changed into the cool blue of a spring sky and his smile returned.

"And yet...hope."

A fourth figure entered his vision. Trey could not discern their species, their age, or even their gender. But he watched this stranger display the greatest of mercies and kindness.

He watched them kneel down and close the eyes of the Twi'lek Jedi.

He watched them scoop up the wailing youngling and then, like a parent, rock him in their arms till the young boy had no more tears to cry.

He watched them place a hand on the elderly master's shoulder and then assist him in carrying the body of his student away for final rights.

Trey took another deep breath and slowly exhaled before finally removing his hand from the pillar that had shown him so much.

"I wish I could see it as you do Master Wyse-Mon," Master Kiwiiks said, her voice bearing traces of despair.

"You might very well be able to Bela," said Trey, addressing her by her first name in an effort to comfort her. He gestured towards the pillar, "why not give it a try?"

For a moment the Togruta Jedi seemed to give the idea thought, even managing to begin to move her hand towards the pillar. But ultimately her courage faltered and she let it fall back to her side. "Perhaps another time."

"Of course Bela, remember: all things take time."

Master Kiwiiks chuckled softly. "Didn't I teach you that one? Using my own lessons against me, how very devious of you Trey."

Trey gave her a sly smile. "I merely repeat the words of someone I considered most wise Master Kiwiiks."

"'Most wise', you give far too much credit".

The two Jedi shared another laugh. When it was over, Kiwiiks' smile disappeared and she reverently turned her eyes towards the pillar.

"Trey, when you touched this pillar, the last thing you spoke of was hope."

"I did."

"Do you think...that we could find hope again?"

Despite his "eyes" being covered by a thin strip of pure white cloth, Trey managed to convey a look of confusion.

"There are so few of the Jedi left," clarified Bela, "the Sith rule more of the galaxy than they ever have in all of history, what if….what if this is the end of the Jedi?"

Trey interlocked his hand behind his back as seemed to consider her question. "I do not believe it to be the will of the Force that such an imbalance should come to pass. I believe that just as there will always be darkness, there will also always be light. Even if we pass on, the light will survive...somehow."

Whatever Bela was going to say in response was cut off by the arrival of two new individuals.

"Master Wyse-mon! Master Kiwiiks!"

The two Jedi master turned to greet the new arrivals. Both masters immediately recognized the female near-human leading the pair.

"Nadia," said Trey. The woman smiled warmly at the Miraluka master.

"Greetings Nadia," said Master Kiwiiks, capturing both their attentions, "what is it? Is something wrong?"

"Ah yes, this padawan claims to have a message for you."

The padawan, a young Mirialan male, nervously shifted his attention between the two masters. "Uh yes, I mean, not for you two in particular...not that you two aren't important masters! It's just that the message was for any Council members and um...you two were the first that I thought of. Probably because you're the only two that I know."

Trey gave the young man a comforting smile while Bela's was more amused. The Togruta turned to her fellow master, "Most likely the senate complaining again. I'll go handle this."

Trey gave an appreciative nod. "You have my thanks, I think politicians are afraid of me"

"Because you're the only one they can't dance circles around with their fancy talk." Trey chuckled at Bela's jest and the Togruta gestured for the padawan to lead the way.

Trey and Nadia gave each other knowing looks. Trey gestured with a nod towards a nearby room that would have been used for meditation when the Temple was in its prime. It was small and more than a few chunks of rubble decorated the floor, but it was secluded and that was the important part.

Once the two were inside, Trey shut the door behind them. As soon as it closed Nadia all but tackled him to the wall, crushing her curves into his body and covering his lips with a deep, fervent kiss. Trey immediately responded by wrapping his arms around her slender waist and she did similarly with his neck, pulling the two of them even deeper into one another.

Their kisses were slow and soft at first, but then they became harder and more greedy as their hands began to fiercely caress each other's bodies.

Finally the two of them reluctantly broke the kiss. Nadia moved her hands up from his neck to run through his dusty blonde short hair and down to cup his jaw. All the while they stared deeply into one another's eyes, neither able to tear away from the intensity of their connection. Despite Trey's lack of actual eyes, both could see a heated passion within the other that was as anathema to the Jedi code as possible, but neither of them could find the consciousness to care while lost in one another.

Nadia trembled as Trey gently ran his hand up the curve of her back, her lips quivering with anticipation. In response she trailed a tender thumb along his lower lip. Trey kissed it lovingly.

"I missed you too," Trey whispered, his voice more husky than intended.

"It feels like it's been an eternity since we had any time for one another," she whispered back before placing series of kisses along his neck.

Trey shuddered as she did, just barely finding the strength to reply. "Things have been hard, especially with-"

Nadia placed a finger against his lips to silence him. "Shhhhh, I don't want to hear about that. Not now, not with you."

"Then what do you want?" Trey asked slyly.

Nadia returned his smile. "You really have to ask?"

About an hour of passionate activity later and the two lovers found themselves naked on the floor with Trey's heavy robes being used as an impromptu bed. Silently they held one another tightly, enjoying the ecstasy of post-coital bliss as they stared up at the still pristine ceiling.

Nadia broke the silence first. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

"Mmm," Trey hummed in agreement.

"No war, no Sith, no worries, just the two of us together."

"You know we can't, we have a duty to the Order."

Nadia winced. Despite not staring in her direction, Trey still saw it on account of his 360 degree field of view.

"I didn't mean that I don't want that," he quickly said, "I just-"

Nadia smiled. "I know."

Lovingly she kissed his cheek. "Still, it's a dream that we can hold onto right?"

"Of course." Despite not needing to, Trey turned over to stare into her eyes before pulling her into another hungry kiss.

An impish smile spread across Nadia's lips. "How much time do you think we have before we're missed."

Before Trey could respond the room they were in suddenly shuddered and the sound of far off screams suddenly made itself prevalent. Hastily the two Jedi clothed themselves and ran out into the temple. Not long after they exited they ran into the same padawan Nadia had been escorting earlier.

"Barsen'thor! Master Grell!"

"Young one! What is it? What's going on?"

"It's the Empire master! They're invading the planet!"

* * *

From her office, Supreme Chancellor Leontyne Saresh watched Coruscant fall.

Starfighters filled the skies, screeching over the frightened people of Coruscant and raking the buildings with laser fire. High above, Imperial dreadnoughts blocked out the day's sun with their massive frames, enveloping the planet in their collective shadow. Down below soldiers and Sith Lords invaded the streets. Local law enforcement courageously attempted to fight back but it was all in vain before the superior training and firepower of the Empire.

Republic High Command was quick to coordinate a response, ordering troops to mount a counterattack. But even as the Coruscant guard bravely fought to defend their home, Saresh knew that it was simply delaying the inevitable. The Empire's forces were simply too numerous. There would be no victory here, all they could do was hope to survive.

The longer she stared out her window the further Saresh's heart sank. She had been trusted to lead the Republic. Yet here she was, the last Chancellor that would ever sit in this office.

No she couldn't think like that. Just because they had lost the war, did not mean that the Republic would also die. That's what she and her cabinet had planned for, the eventual victory of the Empire. Civilians would be evacuated while the military held off the Empire. They could still mount a resistance without a planet, perhaps even-.

"Supreme Chancellor!" the door to her office slid open, letting through a full platoon of Republic soldiers and leading them was the famous Havoc Squad.

"Supreme Chancellor!" said the voice again. A tall ruggedly handsome human man pushed his way to the front of the group, she recognized him as the Major of Havoc Squad.

"Supreme Chancellor, we must evacuate you immediately. Your personal shuttle is waiting."

The Chancellor nodded understandingly. It pained her to leave in a time of such crisis but protocol was protocol.

"Alright Major, I entrust my safety to you."

"Don't worry Chancellor, Havoc squad and these brave men will keep you safe," assured the squad's advance war droid: M1-4X.

The Major was about to add to his droid's comment when his eyes suddenly widened in terror. The window that spanned half her office and afforded Saresh a wonderful view of the Coruscant skyline suddenly shattered behind her, knocking her face first unto the ground. Even as broken glass sprayed over her office, the Republic soldiers raised their weapons and Saresh heard heavy footsteps from behind her. Upon turning around she herself saw what had caused the commotion.

Everyone in the Republic knew the face of the man who was standing before her. That horrible visage had slowly become a source of nightmares for many in the army and the Jedi Order.

The Emperor's Wrath.

Beside him were two other Sith, a dark skinned human male wearing a black sash and a slender female Cathar in light red armor.

The Wrath spoke and his voice echoed through Saresh's soul. **"Greetings Chancellor, I am here to negotiate the Republic's unconditional surrender."**

Before she could respond Havoc's Major quickly grabbed her by the arm and pulled them back behind the platoon of soldiers.

"Take him down!" ordered the Major as Havoc squad beat a hasty retreat out of the office with Saresh, leaving twenty armed soldiers trapped inside the Chancellor's office with the Wrath and his apprentices.

* * *

The Wrath let out a low primal growl. He could have easily raised his hands and rendered all these men ash with a storm of lightning. But his apprentices needed the practice. So he simply pointed a finger forward.

Obediently, the two apprentices activated their weapons with a snap-hiss and rushed forward faster than any of the troopers could react.

Roaring loudly Zhaff savagely decapitated one enemy while grabbing another by the throat and tossing the trooper into a group of their comrades. The apprentice was aggression, pure raw aggression. More than once the Wrath saw Zhaff use three strikes to end an enemy one when simply one would have sufficed. Though a bit overzealous, never once did Zhaff show a hint of hesitation or fear in the face of danger. The Wrath saw much potential in him.

Marshalla was quite different. Where her human counterpart was comparable to waves crashing constantly against the shore, the Cathar was the coursing flow of the river whittling against the rocks. Gracefully she leapt to skewer a man, then with the same grace she would retract her blade to spin and neatly slice through the throats of two other troopers nearby, but even as she killed them she showed no malice. She lacked blood lust and brutality, but more than made up for it with grace and fluidity. Still, the Wrath knew he would need to eventually teach her how to properly channel her anger.

Though the two apprentices were fresh out of the academy, they were talented and already familiar with spilling blood. Between the two of them it took only took a couple of minutes before the Republic soldiers all lay in smoking pieces. Stepping through what he considered to be light carnage and, without any physical gestures, the Wrath called upon the Force to rip apart the door the Chancellor had escaped through.

The Wrath stepped through the door into a long hallway. At the end of the hall he saw the squad of Republic Commandos standing protectively around the Chancellor. Apparently they had been waiting for an elevator.

"Major!" yelled a female soldier, whom he noted had an Imperial accent.

"Open fire!"

The Wrath's activated a single lightsaber with a lethal hiss. A single rotary cannon, a pair of arm mounted heavy blasters, and four blaster rifles let loose a storm of blaster fire. Most would have been drowned under the sheer volume of blaster bolts being unleashed down the narrow hall. But the Wrath casually deflected all of it and then fearlessly broke into a sprint towards the squad.

His lightsaber was an absolute blur of constant motion as it moved to deflect dozens upon dozens of blaster bolts every moment. To Havoc squad it almost looked like the horrifying demon rushing towards them was wielding eight blades instead of one. After a full minute of continuous fire the barrels of their weapons began to smoke and the Wrath was already half way down the hall.

When it became clear that blaster fire would not suffice, a Weequay member of the squad grabbed a small metal cylinder from his belt. It took the Wrath only a quick glance to realize the cylinder was a detonator. The alien jammed a meaty thumb onto the activation stud and then the walls around the Wrath exploded.

Fire consumed the Wrath's vision and a dozen different shockwaves struck him at once. On pure reflexive instinct the Wrath surrounded himself in a bubble of Force energy. The fire washed around him harmlessly and the bone breaking shockwaves were kept away. The Wrath cursed himself, though he remained unharmed the explosion had obscured his vision and temporarily diverted his attention away from the Chancellor's capture.

Like a demon rising from the pits of hell, the Wrath stepped through the wall of flame and smoke. But by then the Chancellor and Havoc squad were already gone.

With his lightsaber the Wrath sliced apart the door and looked down the shaft to see the elevator on its way down.

* * *

A hastily prepared trap using breaching charges and landmines had bought Havoc squad precious few seconds, just enough time for the emergency elevator to reach them. Now that they were safely inside the elevator, the Major of Havoc let out a shaky breath and ran an armored hand through his regulation length brown hair. That had been close. Too close.

But it was over now.

The Wrath was a powerful Sith, but even he couldn't have survived that.

"Uh...sir," said Lt. Jorgan.

"What?"

The Lieutenant pointed out of the elevator window. The Major's eyes widened as he saw the Emperor's Wrath, very much alive, right outside. They were were in an elevator dropping down magnetic rails at a speed of 50 meters per second and he had somehow caught up to them by free falling. Was the man crazy?

The Major got his answer when the Wrath looked through the window straight at the Chancellor.

"Vik!"

"I'm on it," said the Weequay demolitionist. Shouldering his rocket launcher, he took aim at the Wrath and fired. The missile broke through the glass and seemed to hit the Wrath dead on, consuming the freefalling Sith in smoke and fire. For the remaining three minutes of the ride down Havoc saw no more of him.

Soon the elevator reached ground level and the doors slid open.

"Move it Havoc we've got to-" the Major's words died in his mouth.

Where there should have been a dropship ready to take them to the Chancellor's evacuation shuttle there was instead four dozen Imperial Soldiers, all with their weapons pointed at them. A second later, a familiar figure dropped from the sky and landed at the head of the Imperial platoon.

The Wrath, completely unharmed with his crimson lightsaber in hand.

"Havoc Squad! Protect the Chancellor!" the Major ordered immediately. Lt. Jorgan and Fourex were the first to respond. The Lieutenant swept his rotary blaster along the Imperial lines, cutting them down in droves. Fourex similarly fired the heavy repeaters mounted on his arms, doing the work of two heavy weapons teams.

With the enemy sufficiently suppressed the rest of the Havoc moved the Chancellor behind the burning wreckage of what was once their dropship. Once in coveer the Major desperately attempted to call for backup.

"To all Republic forces! This is Havoc Squad! VIP is secured but we are being pursued by enemy forces and Alpha Predator One!" he yelled into his COM unit as he shielded Saresh, "I repeat! Alpha Predator One sited! We need backup, extraction, anything!"

When the only reply that came through was static the Major cursed, their communications were being jammed!

"Incoming enemy fire!" hollered Lt. Jorgan as his rotary cannon continued to drown the Imperials in blaster fire.

"Enemy flanking left!" announced Sgt. Dorne.

"Yuun is reloading!" warned Yuun.

"Here comes a big boom!" declared Vik as he fired off another rocket.

"For the Republic!" cheered Fourex as enemy fire harmlessly splashed across his chassis.

The entirety of Havoc squad fought like ten times their number and the Major couldn't have been prouder. But as he gunned down more advancing Imperials, he noted that the Wrath had yet to make a move. The Sith just stood there, watching as his soldiers were cut down by the Republic commandos.

The Major knew that the only reason Havoc hadn't been killed yet was because the Wrath had not yet decided to do so, and the time when he finally changed his mind was rapidly approaching. If they didn't get some help soon they were doomed!

That's when the Major heard the sound of lightsabers activating. At first he thought it was more Sith, but a few seconds later he saw flashes of green and blue behind the enemy lines. That's when the Major knew they were saved.

Five Jedi suddenly dropped appeared behind the Imperials and began slicing the enemy soliders to ribbons. The Wrath immediately whipped around and glared bloody murder.

 **"Jedi."**

The Sith barked orders for the Imperials to continue focusing their attention on Havoc while he dealt with his most hated enemy. As if to go along with his plans, two of the Jedi broke of from the main group to confront him while the other three fought their way through the Imperials and linked up with Havoc.

"Come on!" ordered an elderly human Jedi, "they won't be able to hold him off for long."

The master's foretelling soon came true as one of the Jedi was cut apart at the waist and the other was reduced to a smoking heap by lightning.

"Go! Go! Go!" ordered the Major, following the three Jedi.

Noticing that his quarry was escaping, the Wrath reached out his hand to pull the Chancellor to him with the Force.

Cpl. Yuun, Havoc's slicer and Force-sensitive Gand, was the only one who felt the Wrath's invisible hand reaching out to grab Saresh. With bravery befitting of his station in Havoc squad, Yuun pushed the Chancellor out of the way. Bereft of its intended target the grabbed the Gand instead, Yunn was torn off his feet and pulled towards the Wrath like a ragdoll.

"Yuun!" cried out the Major upon seeing one his own yanked away. The Major watched helplessly as the Gand flew into the Wrath's waiting hand. The Gand struggled briefly before a red lightsaber broke through his chest. Yuun went limp and the Sith coldly tossed away the body.

The Major clenched his teeth in barely contained anger. He wanted to stop, he wanted to go back and avenge his friend. But the mission came first, and so he forced himself to turn away and continue running.

"If we can make it to tram station, we can use one of the trains to make it the rest of the way," explained the leading Jedi Master.

"What about the civilians?" asked the Major,

"Don't worry they've already been evacuated" assured the Jedi, "but we must hurry!"

Suddenly two more figures fell from the sky right in front of their path. The Major recognized them as the two sith that had broken into the Chancellor's office with the Wrath. The Jedi immediately activated their lightsabers.

"Keep moving!" ordered the Jedi Master as he engaged one of the Sith.

Havoc did as they were told, moving on as the Jedi held back the Sith. The Cathar somehow managed to slip past her opponent and went straight for the Chancellor. Vik however got in the way, drawing his vibroblade the Weequay somehow managed to block the strike of the Cathar's purple lightsaber.

"Vik?!" cried the Major.

"Go! I've got this!"

With no time to argue, Havoc squad and the Jedi continued on with the Chancellor, leaving Vik to face his opponent alone.

* * *

"You Sith think you can take me?! Come on!" growled the Weequay as he swung his weapon at the much smaller being.

Fortunately for the Sith, Vik was no swordsman. To her his moves were sloppy and slow, more akin to a barbarian wielding a cudgel than an actual warrior. Even better for the Marshalla, during her time in the academy she had constantly had to deal with opponents like Vik: large lumbering brutes that believed that their size gave them a winning advantage.

With a growl Vik executed an overcommitted vertical chop that Marshalla easily deflected with an elegant flick of her purple blade and then followed by lopping off the Weequay's outstretched hand. Vik howled and held the smoking stub of his wrist before the Cathar swiftly thrust her blade into his chest.

Havoc's demolitions expert let out a pained grunt and stared at the purple blade stuck in his chest. Amazingly Vik stayed alive just long enough to raise his gaze and stare the Cathar who'd killed him in the eye.

"Hehehe," Vik chuckled painfully, then reached for something on his belt. "BOOM!"

The Cathar Sith heard a distinct click followed by a high pitch series of beeps.

Realizing what was happening, Marshalla quickly yanked her lightsaber out of the Weequay and leapt back, just in time for the ten pounds of high explosives Vik had kept in his armor to detonate in a blaze of fiery glory.

Tano Vik died as he lived, spitting in the faces of others and blowing things up.

* * *

Though he was now down another man, the Major knew that Vik's death bought time for Havoc and the Chancellor to keep moving. With the pursuers temporarily delayed the Jedi led Havoc and the Chancellor to a pair of civilian speeders that they had manage to acquire. The group split themselves between the two and immediately took off towards the tram station.

Vik's last explosion eventually died down, leaving half a block worth of streets scorched black. Marshalla for her part had escaped unharmed except for some singed fur and blackened bits of armor.

Not bothering to evaluate the health of his apprentices, the Wrath walked past both of them and narrowed his eyes as he watched the the speeders disappear into the distance. With a low growl of displeasure, the Wrath spoke into wrist-com.

" **Hunt them down."**

* * *

With the assistance of their newly acquired transportation Havoc and the Jedi were able to reach the tram station in good time.

"We'll take one of the trains," announced the Jedi Master.

"Why not just take the speeders?" asked Saresh.

"You don't know the Wrath very well do you madam Chancellor? The speeders aren't fast enough."

As if on cue Lt. Jorgan gave a shout.

"Major! We've got incoming!"

The Major looked up to where his lieutenant was pointing and saw three Imperial gunships screeching straight towards them escorted by twice as many Supremacy star fighters.

"Take cover!" ordered Havoc's Major.

The squad immediately leapt behind their speeders just as the enemy fast movers swooped overhead for a flyby strike. Geysers of dirt and tiling exploded around them as the supremacy fighters fired their main weapons. The Major grabbed the Chancellor by the head, a bit more roughly than intended, and kept her down.

"Stay down madam chancellor!"

By then the gunships had hovered down to the street and began discharging a dozen soldiers each.

"Havoc squad! Take them down!" The remaining four members of Havoc fired upon the advancing Imperial soldiers. Once again Jorgan's rotary cannon and Fourex's heavy weapons proved invaluable as they mow down soldier after soldier. The Jedi too proved their worth as they charged fearlessly into the Imperial tide, their lightsabers flashing brilliantly as they cut down their attackers.

Unfortunately the dropships did not simply fly off after dropping off the Imperial troops. Instead they continued to hover overhead and shower Havoc and the Jedi with constant blaster fire. The stream of energy bolts was so severe that even the Jedi were forced into a retreat for fear of being overwhelmed.

One of the Jedi, the elderly master, managed to fling his lightsaber like a boomerang and used it to damage one of the gunships. But by doing so the elderly master announced himself as the primary threat and so the gunships focused their weapons onto him.

This was bad. The Major knew that they could retreat into the tram station but the Imperial troopers would still follow and the gunships would track their tram.

It was time to activate Havoc's secret weapon.

"Fourex! Collateral restrictions lifted! Authorization: Havoc Alpha!"

The optical lenses of Havoc's war droid, M1-4x, flashed as soon as the Major finished his command. "Authorization recognized. Restrictions lifted. Employing EXTERMINATION PROTOCOLS."

Fourex's massive three fingered hands suddenly split apart and retracted, revealing that the barrels of the droid's heavy blaster was actually just one of three. The twin cannons on Fourex's back, which had stayed unused until now, shifted into firing position above the droid's blocky shoulders.

"ENGAGING TARGETS," announced Fourex in a much deeper voice.

The three barreled heavy rotary blasters which were often employed for gunship turrets began to spin and let loose a storm of golden energy bolts upon the Imperial soldiers. Seeing this the gunships redirected their fire onto Fourex, the wardroid gladly accepted and shrugged off their blaster fire, its armor holding strong.

"TACTICAL ASSESSMENT: IMPERIAL AIR UNITS! EMPLOYING ANTI-AIR MEASURES!"

The barrels of Fourex's back mounted cannons began to glow a bright blue. The glow became brighter and brighter until finally Fourex released the weapon's charge, letting loose two heavy beams of pure energy that skewered through the nearest gunship and brought it crashing down as a fiery wreck.

"THE REPUBLIC WILL NEVER DIE!" cheered the wardroid.

What was left of the Imperial forces were now in full retreat. Fourex mowed them down without mercy and downed another gunship with his heavy cannons.

"Keep up the pressure people!" ordered the Majors he and Sgt. Dorne fired upon a trio of stubborn Imperials.

"WARNING: INCOMING IMPERIAL REINFORCEMENTS!" announced Fourex.

True to the wardroid's prophecy another Imperial dropship arrived and brought itself to a hover a full story above the battlefield. Its doors bay slid opened and three figures leapt out and landed before the retreating Imperials.

" **Cowardice** **is not tolerated."** The Major's blood went cold.

With a wave of his hand the Wrath sent four retreating Imperial troopers flying off the side of the streets to plunge into the depths of Coruscant's lower levels.

"You fecking scum!" The Major's blood suddenly came to a boil, instantly snapping him from his terror. He raised his rifle, took aim at the Wrath, and jammed his finger down on the trigger. A deluge of green bolts flew towards the Wrath, one that the Sith easily deflected with his lightsaber. One of the deflected bolts flew right back at the Major and struck him in the shoulder. Havoc squad's leader went down with a cry and Elara was immediately on him with her diagnosis tool.

"Sir! Are you alright?!" She scanned him quickly and found that the Major's armor had absorbed most of the damage.

The Major however was raving mad. "Get off of me! I'm gonna kill him! I'm gonna kill him!"

"Sir! We need to go! We can't fight that thing! The mission comes first!" Elara's voice combined with the words he had often said himself seemed to snap the Major out of his berserk rage. He nodded and grabbed his weapon before issuing a new command.

"M1-4X! New Orders!"

"ACKNOWLEDGED! PREPARING TO RECEIVE NEW ORDERS!"

"For the Republic, hold off Imperial forces until the Supreme Chancellor has been taken to safety. Retreat is not an option!"

"NEW ORDERS ACKNOWLEDGED! I AM THE LINE AND THE LINE WILL BE HELD! FOR THE REPUBLIC!"

The Major gave the wardroid a quick salute. "It's been an honor Fourex. Havoc squad fall back!"

Elara grabbed Chancellor Saresh by the arm and led her into the tram station followed closely by Lt. Jorgan, the Major, and finally the trio of Jedi. Once everyone but Fourex was inside, the elderly master held out his hands and then brought them together with a clap, the entry doors mimicked this action and slammed shut with a considerably louder sound.

By then the Wrath and his apprentices had finished executing the soldiers the officers that had failed to properly lead their soldiers in the assault against Havoc. With examples made, the Wrath turned his attention to the lone Republic wardroid guarding the heavy set of closed doors.

"ANALYZING...ANALYSIS COMPLETE. PRIORITY TARGET LOCATED! DESIGNATION: ALPHA PREDATOR ONE!" The rotary blasters on it arms began to spin and the heavy cannons on it back began to charge up. "SETTING PREJUDICE LEVELS TO MAXIMUM!"

* * *

The Wrath's apprentices immediately jumped to the defense of their master. With the synchronized hiss of their lightsabers activating they sped towards the droid, to organic eyes the two apprentices would have appeared as twin blurs. But M1-4X's targeting matrix easily tracked their movements.

The droid's rotary blasters let loose a torrent of energized death with pinpoint precision. Well trained in the art of blast deflection by their master, Marshalla and Zhaff weathered the storm of blaster fire with little difficulty, though their advance forward was slowed considerably. Seeing that its efforts were insufficient, M1-4X began deploying more countermeasures.

Three small ports on either side of M1-4X's head opened and from those ports M1-4X launched two volleys of six micro-missiles. The droid's targeting matrix guided each individual missile toward a target of its choosing.

Seeing four missiles coming at both of them, the apprentices broke off their assault. With their superior speed they avoided the explosive projectiles. The apprentices underestimated the power of the explosive payload however and both were thrown back by the kinetic force of multiple detonations.

The four remaining micro-missiles streaked towards the Wrath who simply stood still and stared at the incoming projectiles. At the last moment the Sith raised a single hand and the missiles froze. The missiles micro-thrusters increased power in an attempt to break free, but the Wrath's hold was absolute and they didn't even budge a centimeter.

With a flick of his wrist the Wrath overpowered each micro-missile's targeting system and sent them streaking back at M1-4X.

"DEFENSIVE SYSTEMS ACTIVATING!"

A light blue sphere of energy formed around the Republic droid. The micro-missiles struck the barrier and detonated, enveloping M1-4X in explosive fire but leaving him unharmed. The shield then lowered, temporarily, to allow the droid to fire its dual heavy cannons.

This time the Wrath did move...a few steps to the side, just as the droid's weapon fired. The heavy beam of energy missed the Sith by several inches.

"INCREASING ENERGY OUTPUT!"

M1-4X fired its heavy cannons again, except this time it fired a continuous stream of burning energy that it swept after the Wrath. With Force assisted speed the Wrath raced just ahead of the devastating beam as it tore a burning in his wake. After ten seconds of continuous output however, M1-4X was forced to cease firing or risk losing the heavy cannons entirely.

Deprived of one of its main weapons, at least until its temperature fell back within acceptable levels, M1-4X resorted to its twin rotary blasters and micro-missile launchers.

M1-4X fired everything.

The Wrath activated both of his lightsabers.

The Wrath's hands worked furiously, spinning and swinging his weapons in an impenetrable barrier of red blades. Even as he deflected the torrent of blaster fire with his blades, M1-4X launched volley after volley of micro-missiles. Lacking the necessary time to turn the missiles back on the droid, the Wrath settle for simply throwing them off course by letting loose kinetic pulses of the Force from his body.

Weaker versions of the Force Repulse, these pulses were just strong enough to cause the missiles to change direction and detonate prematurely.

As he defended himself from the droid's torrent of attacks the Wrath advanced upon the droid's position with frightening speed. Unlike the two apprentices from before M1-4X's targeting matrices had more trouble tracking the swift movements of the Wrath as a result the droid was slower to correct his weapons.

The processors feeding M1-4X tactical information calculated that holding its position dropped chances of victory down to 25%. Realizing that to stay static was folly, the droid's three legs began to move it in a strafing pattern to the left. But even as M1-4X moved the Wrath followed and the Sith was much faster than the comparatively lumbering droid.

The Wrath closed in on his prey like a wild predator. M1-4X desperately tried to activate its shields.

"ACTIVATING DEF-"

For a brief moment the Wrath's speed suddenly exploded to a level where even M1-4X''s sophisticated targeting matrix completely lost track of the Sith. That flare of speed was enough for the Wrath to close the distance and lop off the droid's left arm.

"-ENSES!"

M1-4X's shield raised itself too late.

"WARNING: UNIT EFFICIENCY HAS DROPPED TO 80-"

The Wrath was relentless.

As M1-4X attempted to turn itself around, the Wrath seized the droid with the Force. Contemptuously he turned his palm skywards and the droid was sent rocketing high up into the air. The Wrath then turned his hand over and M1-4X smashed back down into the street hard enough to crater the pavement.

The droid's servos fidgeted and sparked.

"EFFICIENCY HAS DROPPED TO 70-"

The Wrath sent the Republic droid flying back up and then smashed it back down.

"EFFICIENCY HAS DROPPED TO-"

Again.

"EFFICIENCY HAS DROPPED-"

Again.

"EFFICIENCY HAS-"

Again.

"EFFICIENCY-"

Again.

This time the droid's energy shield sputtered and died. Amazingly the droid managed to still remain active. Pitifully it limped to turn and face the Wrath.

"D-DEFEAT I-IS N-NOT AN O-OPTI-"

Two red lightsabers sailed through the air and sank their blades into the droid's chest.

"S-S-SYSTem f-failure….p-power levels...d-d-dropping."

The twin lightsabers freed themselves from M1-4X's chassis and flew back to the waiting hands of their master. As a _coup de grace_ the Wrath cast a stream of lightning that struck M1-4X dead on. Flames erupted from its joints and what servos remained spasmed erratically as though possessed.

"F-F-For th-th-the Re-Re-Republic!"

M1-4X slumped to the ground and the lights behind its optical lenses finally went out.

* * *

Upon entering the tram station and sealing every single door behind them, the combined forces of Havoc and the Jedi escorted Chancellor Saresh to an offline train. After rebooting its systems and hot wiring it for their purposes, Havoc, the Jedi, and the Chancellor were on their way to the evacuation site at 400 kilometers per hour.

While Lt. Jorgan monitored their status from the pilot and the Jedi guarded the chancellor in the first car, Sgt. Dorne took to treating the Major's injuries in the second car.

"Sir, please hold still."

"I'm fine Elara, it's just a flesh wound." Despite the Major's protests Sgt. Dorne continued to apply a kolto patch to his injured shoulder.

Damn it, she was mad at him.

"Elara," he tried.

No response. Okay, she was really mad at him. "Elara, I'm sorry, I know I lost my focus out there and-"

"And nearly botched the mission," the former Imperial added venomously,

"...yeah."

"And put the Chancellor in danger."

"...that too."

"And…" The sergeant's anger faltered.

"Elara?"

"And almost got yourself killed," she finished before peeling off the kolto patch and revealing the Major's healed skin. "You should be fine now, provided you don't go do something foolish again."

Elara," the Major reached out and took her hand in his, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you."

Their eyes met and the formal Imperial finally lost her composure and wrapped the Major in a crushing embrace. The Major silently wrapped his arms around her armored form.

"When you went down," he heard her say, "for a moment I….I thought you were…"

"I know and I'm sorry. But seeing that monster treat his men like that...I guess I just couldn't take it."

Upon hearing this, Elara moved back from their embrace only to pull closer again for a kiss. The Major was only too happy to let her, even bringing a hand to the back of her head to deepen the kiss. Eventually the two soldiers broke their kiss and returned to holding each other lovingly.

"I love you sir."

"I love you too Elara."

Suddenly the door connecting the first and second cart opened. Jorgan stepped in, and upon seeing his commanding officer and sergeant cuddling, promptly coughed into his hand to gain their attention.

"Ehem, sir?"

Elara and the Major quickly broke their embrace. While their relationship was relatively common knowledge amongst Havoc, the two still made an effort to remain professional in front of the others.

"Lieutenant."

"Sir!" Jorgan snapped a crisp salute.

Elara took that as her cue to leave. "I'll go check on the Chancellor, make sure she hasn't sustained any major injuries."

The former Imperial saluted both of her superior officers and moved to the first car. Once they were alone, Jorgan gave the Major a status report.

"We're making good time sir, at this speed we should reach our destination in half an hour.

"Good, good," nodded the Major, "it's good to know that...their sacrifices will mean something."

Jorgan nodded in understanding. It was never easy losing a member of the squad, particularly one as tightly knit as Havoc. It was true that Jorgan had always butted heads with Vik and had never truly understood Yuun, but they were Havoc. Them, Fourex, and everyone else had earned their place in the squad through blood, tears, and fire.

They could always rebuild, but it wouldn't be the same. But Jorgan thought that perhaps it was best if it wasn't the same, so that the memory of those three remained.

"We'll honor their sacrifices sir and someday we'll avenge them."

"I hope so Jorgan. Come on, let's go thank our Jedi saviors."

Jorgan gave a snort before following the Major.

The two Havoc officers entered into the front car and found the Chancellor sitting in one of the dozen seats inside the car. Two of the Jedi were standing guard at either end of the car, while their leader, the elderly human, had seated himself in a chair next to Saresh's. Elara was currently standing before the chancellor and scanner her with her diagnosis tool. Upon spotting Jorgan and the Major approaching the former Imperial performed a perfect salute. Noticing this, Saresh stood and walked out of her seat to greet them.

"Major, let me just start by saying that I value the sacrifices your men have made in protecting me. I assure you that I will personally ensure they are remembered for their service."

"Thank you madam chancellor, it's good to know they'll have their due. But I think both of us should really be thanking the Jedi here. I'm not sure if we would have made it without their timely intervention."

"Think nothing of it," the elderly Jedi Master said.

"There is no need to be humble master…"

"Ah yes, forgive me Major. I am Master Jaric Kaedan of the Jedi Council."

"Well Master Kaedan, Havoc squad thanks you."

"It is an honor next to such vaunted heroes of the Republic. I just wish we had arrived sooner, then perhaps we might have been able to save-"

"Sir!" interrupted Sgt. Dorne, "incoming enemy transport!"

The Major turned his eyes out the window to see that Elara was indeed correct. An Imperial dropship was tailing their train and gaining.

"Open fire!" he ordered,

Dorne and Jorgen shot out the windows and began firing upon the vessel. It's bay door slid open, revealing the two Sith that had been accompanying the Wrath. There was however no sign of the Wrath himself, that bothered the Major but at the moment he couldn't be bothered to think on it. For now the Major was more preoccupied with the Sith in front of them.

"Jorgen, hit it with a rocket!"

"Yes sir!" Jorgen pulled the squad's second rocket launcher from his back and let loose a single missile. The lieutenant's aim was true and the rocket propelled explosive struck the aerial vehicle right under the wing. The ship shook and struggled to maintain elevation but remained airborne. It seemed that the pilot had had enough and began to break off pursuit. The Sith however still had it in them to continue the fight.

As the dropship began to pull away the two Sith leapt from the bay and landed perfectly on top of the train. Almost immediately after the sound of their landing on the roof a red lightsaber broke through the ceiling and began to cutting with frightening speed. A chunk of the ceiling cut into a perfect circle fell to the floor with an audible thump.

"Fire! Fire! Fire!" barked the Major. Without even looking Havoc fired everything they had up through the opening. When it was clear they were hitting nothing but air the Major signaled for a cease fire.

"Stay here Major," ordered one of the Jedi, "we'll handle this."

The large blue Jedi leapt through the broken window, grabbing onto the edge of the frame, and swung himself onto the roof while his smaller companion simply jumped up the newly created hole. Master Kaeden meanwhile held back to ensure nothing got near the Chancellor. The two Jedi Knights found the Sith awaiting them and brandished their weapons.

"Sith!" began the large blue Jedi, "I am Jastus and this is my companion Letho."

He gestured to the other Jedi, a young light skinned human. "In us you face two full Jedi Knights, you would be wise to surrender. Do so and I give you my word that you shall be treated fairly."

The Cathar had no reaction other than to assume a ready position with her weapon. The Human however was much more vocal of his opinions.

"Surrender?! Foolish Jedi, do you not understand who I am?"

Neither Jedi responded.

"I am an apprentice of the Wrath himself! It is you who should beg for mercy!"

Jastus shook his head in pity. "Your overconfidence will be your undoing young one, the power you believe to possess in nothing more than an illusion."

At hearing this, Zhaff activated his lightsaber and with a savage war cry launched himself at the alien Jedi. In response Jedi Knight Jastus activated his saberstaff with emerald green blades and blocked the incoming attack. Confident that his companion had things in hand, Letho turned his attention to the other Sith.

The female Cathar was already charging at him with her blade pulled back for a one handed thrust. Letho immediately leapt back, giving both himself and Jastus space to deal with their respective foes. Once he was far enough away he activated his blue lightsaber and locked blades with the female Sith apprentice.

"I sense no anger in you young one. Why do you fight for the Sith? You're talent in the Force would be better served in the light."

At that Marshalla finally let out a feline hiss. "You're light failed me long ago Jedi!"

With uncharacteristic anger the Cathar unleashed an aggressive flurry of attacks against her opponent one that the Jedi Knight Letho easily defended himself against. Though the Sith apprentices fought ferociously they were clearly outmatched by their respective opponents. Both apprentices were experienced in killing and had been chosen by the Lord Wrath for their skill, but they had only received their lightsabers a few weeks ago, and their Jedi counterparts had been wielding their weapons for years.

This was a losing fight, even Zhaff who had been so confident a few moments ago, could now see that they could not compete with their Jedi adversaries. If they continued this fight, they would most certainly be slain. But the thought of retreating never crossed the mind of either apprentice. For the words of their master still rang in their ears: " **cowardice is not** **tolerated",** " **if I find you lacking in either way, it will not be difficult to find replacements".**

So even as Zhaff's opponent managed to strike him across the face with a fist and Marshalla's left pauldron was seared off, the two Sith apprentices continued their fight with zealous determination. For they knew that to retreat was to fail their master, and failure was unacceptable. Seeing that there would be no surrender for the Sith apprentices, the Jedi Knights resolved to end the conflict cleanly.

Then suddenly both apprentices recoiled, as though struck. Then unexpectedly they broke from their respective engagements and fled as though death itself were chasing them. The Jedi could only watch in puzzlement as their enemy leapt off the back of the train and onto the tracks, allowing the transport and the Chancellor to escape.

The Jedi Knights were confused. Why had they stopped?

Then they felt it.

The cold.

It enveloped them like a winter blizzard, raising the hairs on the back of their necks, chilling them to the bone, and freezing their feet to the roof of the train. Rigidly the two Jedi turned to face the front of the train. What they saw was a lone figure, standing in the way of their route.

The Wrath had caught up with them.

"What's he doing?" asked the Major from inside the train.

Master Kaedan knew the answer. "Everyone, to the back of the train! Now!"

The members of Havoc and the Chancellor followed unquestioningly.

Casually the Wrath stretched a single hand out towards the incoming train. With a horrible moan the 150 ton transport derailed from the tracks and raised itself high into the air like a massive mechanical serpent coiling back in preparation to strike.

"HANG ONTO SOMETHING!" the Major yelled out as the floor began to tilt out from underneath them.

Master Kaedan, Havoc, and the Supreme Chancellor found themselves grabbing onto seats, rails, poles, whatever they could to prevent themselves from falling to their deaths. Jastus and Letho, who had leapt from the train as it rose, took it upon themselves to kill the Wrath while he was holding up the train. Surely even the Wrath would be drained from holding up such a great weight so high in the air, he would therefore be left vulnerable to attack.

They were so very, very wrong. Tendrils of blue energy danced along the Wrath's body as the Jedi sped towards what they thought to be an incredible opportunity. Without a word the Wrath raised his free hand and unleashed a storm of lightning upon the approaching Jedi. They raised their lightsabers in hopes of deflecting the incoming energy with their blades but were too slow.

It only lasted for a few seconds, they didn't even have time to scream before the intense amounts of energy fried their brains. But by the end, all that was left of both Jedi was a charred skeleton covered in chunks of burned flesh. Their lightsabers, which had also been caught in the storm, had exploded and were now scattered along the tracks. That was alright, they wouldn't have made good trophies anyway.

The Wrath then returned his attention to the train still dangling in the air with five passengers inside. A simple wave of his hand and he sent the transport off the rails into a free fall to the streets four stories below.

* * *

The first thing the Major felt when he regained consciousness was a lot of pain. His left side was on fire, it felt like something was jammed into it. Right arm felt funny, he was pretty sure it was fractured if not completely broken. Also his vision was blurry and there was a constant ringing in his ears, most likely from a bad concussion. With what hearing he still had the Major could hear Elara shouting and…. something else. It took him a few moments but eventually he placed the sound as the hum of lightsabers. Two of them, maybe more. They were striking against one another.

Elara was yelling. At him? Someone else?

His eyesight finally began to clear up and he could make out two forms. One was smaller and crouched over a larger one who was slumped up against the remains of the train. He turned his gaze and saw two red beams of light wielded by a dark figure clashing against a single green beam wielded by another.

As his vision returned in full and the Major could see that it was Master Kaedan fighting against the Emperor's Wrath, and losing by the looks of it. Returning to the other two figures, he could now make out that Elara was attempting to stabilize Jorgen. The Chancellor, who wasn't too far away, lay on the ground unconscious, likely knocked out when the train fell.

Bracing himself against the train and using it as a support, the Major managed to push himself to stand up.

"Major! Sir! You need to stay down" protested Dorne upon seeing him get up.

"I don't have time for that Dorne," replied the Major with a cough, "status update!"

"Lieutenant Aric Jorgan is badly injured sir! Twisted metal through the chest. I've done all I can to stabilize him but if we don't get him to a medical facility soon he'll bleed out."

"And the Chancellor?"

"Nothing too bad sir, just a slight concussion."

"Alright let's-"

His attention was diverted as the sounds of clashing lightsabers came near.

Master Kaedan reeled from having taken a kick to the jaw. His breath was now ragged and his shoulders sagged from exhaustion. The Wrath on the other hand looked to not even be mildly winded. In fact he mockingly held back and allowed the Jedi Master to catch his breath.

Insulted, Master Kaedan raised his saber and attacked. He began to hammer away at the Wrath's defenses with all his remaining strength. The Wrath held him off contemptuously with only one lightsaber, while the other simply dangled at his side, completely unneeded. It was insulting and frustrating for the Jedi Master. He brought his lightsaber down again, locking it against the Wrath's.

Their blades crackled fiercely against one another as each struggled for dominance. That is until the Wrath turned their blades into the ground and smashed the metal forehead of his mask into Master Kaedan's nose. With blood flowing freely from his broken nose and his eyes stinging from the unexpected pain, the dazed Master Kaedan was left wide open to attack. It was an opportunity that the Wrath monopolized on.

In a blur of motion the Wrath took both of the Jedi Master's arms, leaving Kaedan screaming at the loss of his limbs. The screams were silenced as the Wrath drove both of his crimson blades up into the elderly Jedi's gut. Kaedan had just enough air left in his lungs to let out a pained gasp at the realization of his death.

The Wrath leveled his eyes to the dying Jedi Master's.

" **I've wanted to do this for a long time old man."**

As a final insult to injury, the Wrath kicked his foot into the corpse, sending the Jedi's body off of his blades and crashing into the burning wreckage of the train.

" **Better than you deserve,"** the Sith spat.

With the Jedi eliminated, and thus the only real threat to him removed, the Wrath deactivated his weapons and placed them back on his belt. He then reached out toward Master Kaedan's lightsaber on the ground and it flew into his hand.

" **Another to my wall,"** he whispered before placing it on his belt as well.

The Major's heart sank into his stomach as he stared at the lifeless burning body of Master Kaedan. Then his stomach jumped up into his throat as he saw the Wrath calmly walking towards them like a dark spectre of death.

This was bad. Master Kaedan and the Jedi had been the only ones that had any chance against the monstrosity that was the Wrath. With them Havoc's chances of surviving had been at best fifty-fifty. Without them and with only one uninjured member, those chances dropped to near zero.

The Major grit his teeth and steeled his resolve. NO! He was Havoc damn it! He would not fail his mission! He would not fail the Republic!

But with his injuries there was only one thing he could do.

"Elara, take the Chancellor and go," ordered the Major.

"What? But sir-!"

"I'll hold him off as best as I can but you've got to get out of here now! The mission comes first!"

He could see tears welling up in her eyes as she began to comprehend what he was planning. Silently, in horror, she shook her head and desperately mouthed the word "no" over and over again. The Major knew it wasn't fair to ask this of her, to ask her to survive, but he had to.

The Wrath was but five meters away now, seemingly content to allow this little drama to play out. Sadistic bastard!

"GO!"

In what was certainly suicide the Major limped towards the Wrath, drawing his sidearm as he did with his good hand, and fired a few shaky shots at the Sith. Every blaster bolt the Wrath either dodged with frustrating ease, usually only moving the bare minimum to avoid the shot, or he simply caught them in his armored hand. In a desperate yet futile gesture, the Major attempted to tackle the Sith. His reward was an armored fist to the jaw that put him straight on his back.

"Major!" shrieked Elara, the sergeant whipped out her pistol and turned it on the Sith, "monster!"

She pulled the trigger only to find that it wouldn't fire. Again and again she attempted to squeeze the trigger but it simply wouldn't pull. Then, much to her horror, Elara found herself losing control of her own body. Her feet made her turn around. Her hand began to aim the pistol.

"No! No!" she begged desperately.

She was now pointing her weapon at her still unconscious Lieutenant Jorgan.

"No!" Tears were streaming out of her eyes now.

Against her will, she pulled the trigger.

Jorgan jerked as the blaster bolt struck his chest. Then he went limp and his breathing ceased.

"NOOOOO!" screamed Dorne.

Her anguish was soon ended as the Sith next made her turn the blaster on herself, pressing it against her temple. The Major recovered just in time to see the woman he loved pull the trigger and fall to the ground with a hole in her head.

" **A valiant effort,"** mocked the Wrath, **"but ultimately, futile."**

"You Sith scum," coughed the Major as he reached for his own weapon again.

Before he could he found himself raised up into the air with an invisible noose wrapping itself around his throat. He gasped for air, screamed for it, but to no avail.

" **You have performed your duty admirably Major. Take comfort that you die doing your duty."** The Wrath closed his hand into a fist and the Major's neck snapped.

With his death, Havoc squad was finally no more.

* * *

Supreme Chancellor Leontyne Saresh found herself being dragged back to her office by the three Sith that had recently abducted her and slaughtered Havoc squad. There she found that the Empire had been preparing for her return. Imperial engineers were setting up some sort of broadcasting equipment, fiddling with her desk's holocommunicator, and setting up a number of cameras.

Directing the operation was a Sith. Clad in long dark robes, taller than the Wrath, and wearing a much simpler mask but with an aura of evil that was just as terrifying. For the sake of those who had died to trying to save her, Saresh hid her fear. She only stood straight and proud, not allowing the enemy to see anything else.

" **Supreme Chancellor,"** spoke the Sith, his voice was even and calm. Somehow that was worse than if he were shouting, **"I have been expecting you."**

"And you are?"

" **I am your better. I am Darth Jadus, the Will of the Emperor. I am here on behalf of my lord to see to it that the Republic surrender. Here and now. Without any further resistance"**

"After all these years of fighting you expect me to just surrender? Never! I will never surrender my Republic to monsters like you! We'll bleed to the last man before we hand power over to you!" To finish she spat at the Sith's feet.

At first Jadus did nothing and that made Saresh nervous. She'd expected him to draw his lightsaber, to choke her with the Force, or strike her with Sith lightning. But he simply loomed over her, his features hidden behind a featureless mask.

Then he spoke.

" **I believe you,"** said the Sith, turning to face the scene of war that her office window offered, **"the Republic has always been tenacious. It is no wonder it fought the Empire to a standstill in the last war. Always you have fought to the last man. But I wonder…will you fight to the last child?"**

Saresh's blood grew cold.

" **Or even perhaps the last infant? Still fresh from their mother's womb. Crying out into the world for comfort that will never come. Clawing for a future that will never be. Will you fight that far Supreme Chancellor? Will you allow that to happen? For that is what will be forced to pass if you do not. But only if you refuse to surrender."**

Saresh remained silent.

Jadus gestured to his soldiers. One of them roughly grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved her into her chair.

The cameras all turned towards her.

"Ready on your command my lord," said one of the Engineers.

" **Begin immediately."**

"Beginning planet wide transmission…now!"

All around Coruscant, all around the planet, on every street and ship the Supreme Chancellor's face was broadcast. All eyes were on her now.

"My beloved Republic, we are in a time of crisis. The enemy is at our doorstep. It is only a matter of time before they seize control of the whole planet. I myself...have been captured and am currently being held prisoner. No doubt they wish for me to command you, my brave Republic to surrender."

Saresh paused, taking a moment to consider what she was about to say.

"My dear Republic, if we do not surrender the Empire will destroy us. They will burn our homes, enslave our loved ones, and kill all those who resist."

She paused again and took a deep breath.

"Which is why...we must not give up! Do not surrender! Continue to fight on! Continue to resist! Never stop! Never submit to the tyranny of the Empire! The Republic will continue to live on inside of all of you! Never-AAAAHHHH!"

* * *

Jadus struck the Supreme Chancellor with a torrent of lightning and the Twi'lek screamed out in anguish as the Darth immolated her. Unlike the Wrath's victims, which had flash fried, the Chancellor's destructions was a slow process. Bit by bit the Twi'lek's flesh sizzled off, her eyes cooked, and her teeth chattered uncontrollably. It was a slow and painful death, and it was exactly what Jadus wanted.

When the Emperor's Will ceased his casting, the SupremeChancellor was little more than a lumpy blackened piece of meat. One of the techs operating the equipment promptly regurgitated his breakfast onto the floor while others clamped their hands on their noses in an effort to block out the smell. The Wrath, who had seen much worse, continued to stare indifferently at the corpse.

Jadus then stepped into view of the cameras.

" **Republic, you see here the consequences of defying the will of the Empire. Continue to defy us as your Chancellor did and you shall share her fate. Surrender and your lives shall be spared. This is the Will of the Emperor, this is the mandate of your new masters."**

With that, the transmission cut.

"You could have just taken over her mind, made her say the surrender," said the Wrath, "you're little show might scare some into submission, but others will continue fighting on."

"If that is the case, then they will be dealt with appropriately," assured Jadus, "the loss of an entire planet is insignificant for the vision that we must make real."

"I agree, but now the vision will take longer to realize. This method is not efficient," countered Wrath.

"Becoming impatient?"

"...no,"

"Then there is nothing to fear. The Emperor's vision will become reality in due time."

With that Jadus decided their conversation was at an end and moved to exit the room. The Wrath shook his head, he had long ago realized it was nearly impossible for him to reason with Jadus, for the Will always believed that he was in the right.

"My lord, is there anything more you will require of us?" asked one of the engineers,

"No, just clean up," the Wrath ordered curtly.

"At once my lord." The engineer bowed and moved to do just that.

Stifling a sigh the Wrath moved to the large window that allowed him to overlook Coruscant. Locking his hands behind his back, he soaked in the destruction of the planet and allowed it to ease his mind.

Despite disagreeing with the murder of the Supreme Chancellor, the Wrath had to concede the wisdom in Jadus' words. Even without the Republic's unanimous surrender most would we cowed into submission and Lord Revan's vision would indeed soon become reality.

This day belonged to the Empire.

* * *

Darth Revan, Emperor of the Sith, stood in statuesque silence as he watched the burning of Coruscant from the bridge of his flagship: _The Exile_. A super dreadnought named in the honor of both a long lost friend and the many years Revan spent in the uncharted reaches of the outer rim. But now he had returned and he would finally be able to see his vision become reality. Coruscant would be the last stepping stone to the top of the mountain. From there he would finally be able to save the galaxy.

His only regret was that so many lives would be lost in the process, but that was at this point unavoidable. All he could do now was minimize the damage.

The call of his holocom caught the dark lord's attention. He immediately answered it, bringing up a small holographic representation of his Wrath.

" _My master, the Supreme Chancellor has been dealt with as you ordered."_

"I am aware of what has transpired Lord Wrath, her unwillingness to cooperate is unfortunate but it is only a minor setback. Jadus did well given the Chancellor's outburst, fear will move the remainder of Coruscant's resistance to surrender."

The Wrath seemed to hesitate and then agree. _"Yes my lord."_

Obviously the Wrath had not agreed with Jadus in killing the Supreme Chancellor and the fact that his master did agree troubled him. Revan would soothe his chosen's mind another time, for now he had a battle to preside over.

"You may spend the rest of your time on the battlefield as you see fit. I trust you to do all you can to hasten our victory."

" _Of course my lord,"_ the Wrath bowed and Revan ended the connection.

Before the Emperor could replace his holocom, another call came through. He answered it and found another familiar face.

"Darth Nox, what is the status of your assignment?" he asked immediately.

" _Fear not my Emperor, I am at the gates of their temple and am about to begin the pleasurable act of razing it to the ground._ "

"Very good, contact me when your mission is complete."

Darth Nox nodded then ended the connection herself.

Nox was many things, lustful, power hungry, arrogant, narcissistic, and an alcoholic. But not a single sith in the entire empire doubted the raw talent and power she had or the perfect combination of cruelty and precision that she possessed.

Revan almost felt sorry for the Jedi that would have to confront her.

* * *

Darth Nox closed the channel to the Emperor and returned her attention to the current task at hand. She took a moment to close her eyes and listen to the music that was the sound of the battlefield.

The blanketing sound of blaster fire was like the high pitched vibrations of string instruments, the thundering echoes of explosions emulated the booming beats of percussion, and the constant death throes of combatants matched the whistles of woodwind. But right now it was just a bunch of musicians playing to their own beat. There was no conductor to lead the battle into a true orchestra of carnage.

But now she was here. She would be the conductor, and she would make this battlefield play to her direction.

The Sith turned to her monstrous armored companion, "come along Khem, murder and mayhem await us."

"I shall follow my master," responded the Dashade.

Nox began her ascent up the stairs of the Jedi temple.

* * *

When the invasion of Coruscant began, the Empire had two locations upon which they focused the majority of their attention on. The first was the Senate building where the seat of political power for the Republic was located. The second was the refuge of the Sith's ancient enemy: the Jedi Temple.

The complete eradication of their sworn enemies was a task all Sith were only too happy to throw themselves at. But the Jedi had learned from their defeats during the first Sacking of Coruscant and at the Burning of Tython. When the Sith came marching up the steps of the temple with their Imperial legions in tow, the Jedi did not come charging out to meet them as they had in the past.

Instead they hid inside of their temple and waited for their attackers to step inside. The Sith in their arrogance accepted the Jedi's challenged and foolishly entered the temple, believing their enemy to be cowering before their awesome might. They were wrong.

As the Sith and the legions of Imperial soldiers confidently walked through the ruined halls of the temple, the Jedi sprang their trap.

From atop balconies and behind pillars the robed figures brandished their lightsabers and leapt into the mass of black armor and robes. The Imperial soldiers following their Sith masters were caught off guard by the sudden Jedi ambush. In their confusion the Imperial troops found themselves outflanked and were soon cut to pieces.

The Sith had not expected such deviousness from their light inclined arch-foes. Such tactics were historically the hallmark of their own order, yet here it was being utilized against them. They fared only marginally better than their soldiers.

It was but the first of many battles that would take place in the following hours. For while the Jedi and their Republic allies were posessed an indomitable will, the armies of their enemy were endless. Even after the first three waves failed to push the Jedi any further into their temple the Sith still threw their soldiers into the grinder to slowly wear down the resolve of the stalwart defenders.

And so it was that Master Wyse-mon found himself spilling blood on the temple ground next to his wife. Nadia twirled her saberstaff, creating a spinning golden shield to deflect the fire of six Imperial troopers. Suddenly all six troopers ceased firing and became rigid, without evening needing to check she knew that Trey had stunned all of them with the Force. She finished them off cleanly with quick strikes to their vitals that ended their suffering as painlessly as possible.

"JEDI!" A Pureblood Sith wielding a purple blade charged at her unprotected flank. But Nadia did not move to protect herself for she knew there was no need. In an instant Trey was there to counter with the emerald green blade of his own lightsaber.

"Ha! More Jedi only means more to-" Nadia promptly cut the Sith off from whatever he was going to say with a Force push that staggered him, breaking the blade lock.

"Is that the best you've-"

Trey interrupted him next with a Force pull that lifted the Sith off his feet and into Nadia's waiting blade. The Sith died with a wail of disbelief as he was impaled on Nadia's saberstaff.

The two lovers continued this pattern throughout the rest of the battle, each of them covering for the other, working with a single mind. After years of fighting alongside each other and by sharing a deep connection through the Force through their love, the two Jedi were able to complement each other's styles perfectly.

Nadia's bladework was some of the best in the entire Jedi Order. Her service beside Trey during their travels together had forced her to fight a varying kind of opponents often. Any Sith or Imperial soldier that attacked them was confronted by the constant twirling of her saberstaff.

Trey as a Jedi Master was a beacon on the battlefield. Though proficient with his lightsaber, Trey's bladework was more relaxed than Nadia's. He instead placed greater emphasis on using the Force to shift the tides of the battle. Trey's peers on the Council described his command of the Force as utterly terrifying to his enemies and awe inspiring to his allies.

He placed that power on full display now in defense of his fellow Jedi. With a wave of his hand he sent two dozen Imperial soldiers flying ten meters away to crash against the temple wall. He threw cast out his other hand and stunned three squads of soldiers and the Sith leading them, allowing his fellow Jedi to finish them off.

A column of six Imperial war droids targeted the Jedi Master, singling him out as a primary threat. The large insect like droids each fired a volley of two missiles. The Miraluka Jedi gingerly raised his hand and froze the missiles just a few meters from himself and Nadia, who trusted her lover enough to not even bother worrying about the explosives hovering above them. Trey flicked his wrist to the left and redirected the missiles into a trio of Sith trying to rush the two Jedi.

The Sith attempted to recreate Master Wyse-mon's display of power. They only managed to stop two missiles before the rest rendered them into tiny pieces. Trey then reached a hand out to the droids and turned the palm upwards. All six droids subsequently rocketed skywards where they were smashed flat against the ceiling.

With a lull established in the battle the Miraluka took a moment to collect himself. He breathed in through his nose and then slowly let it out. Killing, no matter in what context, was undesirable for Trey. Normally he would take the time to simply disable his opponents, leaving them with broken limbs or a concussion at worst. But right now he could not afford to pull punches, not with the fate of the Jedi Order at risk.

A soft hand comfortingly touched his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" asked Nadia gently.

Trey put his own hand on top of her's. "Just getting tired of always fighting."

"Imperial reinforcements!" Whatever calm Trey had earned the Jedi was suddenly shattered.

A fresh platoon of Imperial troops was making its way through the temple entrance.

Perhaps it was the constant fighting, or maybe it was simply the fact that the Order itself was at risk, or perhaps the fact that his tender moment with Nadia had been interrupted. But Trey suddenly felt very irked at these new arrivals.

Whatever the reason, Trey took it upon himself to singlehandedly defeat all 75 troopers himself. Breaking away from his love's tender embrace, the Miraluka Jedi stretched his hands out wide and called to the Force.

The entire temple began to shudder as though the ground beneath them was experiencing a groundquake. Suddenly dozens of chunks of rubble, from both the first sacking and the current one, answered the Jedi's call. Some were merely the size of a man's head while others were large enough to dwarf a hovertank. They all obeyed the will of the Jedi Master and came to a hover just above his body.

The Sith leading the new platoon, a Twi'lek, came to a sudden halt at the sight of the massive fleet of rubble simply floating around the Miraluka Jedi.

"O-open fire!" The Sith hastily ordered, fear evident in his voice.

Trey cast his hands forward and before a single trooper could fire off a bolt, his arsenal of rocks, floor tiles, ceiling chunks, boulders, and fallen pillars launched towards them. Imperial troopers were pelted, struck, broken, buried, and crushed beneath the storm of debris and rubble. Their Sith leader managed to fend off several smaller projectiles with his lightsaber before a chunk of temple ceiling the size of a starfighter crashed into him and carried him out the temple entrance.

* * *

Nox had made it halfway up the stairs when she suddenly a shadow fell upon her. The Sith casually looked up to see what was blocking her sunlight and saw that it was a piece of debris the size of a starfighter falling towards her. Something also appeared to be smashed onto its surface, but at this range her eyes could not make it out.

With an urgency comparable to remembering a slave's names, Nox lazily raised a single hand and the starfighter sized boulder came to clean and sudden halt just a few meters above herself and Khem. Nox took this chance to take a better look at this boulder and found that she recognized the smear across its surface.

"Lord Nal!" she greeted the smear cheerily, "good day to you! Tell me, how has your assault of the temple gone? Did you kill as many Jedi as I asked?"

Nal's response was a pained groan.

"Hmmmm," Nox nodded understandingly, "I see, I see, well...that's very disappointing Lord Nal, very disappointing indeed. Well don't you worry about it my fellow red skinned alien, I shall take care of it for you. You get to rest. Good bye."

With a friendly wave laced with subtle madness Nox and her companion moved on, leaving Lord Nal still smeared to the starfighter sized boulder hovering four meters in the air. A few minutes later when Nox had finished her ascent to the to the top of the stairs, the boulder finally dropped to the ground, reducing what was left of Lord Nal to a thin red paste.

* * *

Trey took in a sharp breath of air through his nose and flinched as he sensed the encroaching darkness.

"What is it?" asked Nadia beside him.

"We must begin evacuation of the temple," he announced.

"What?!" cried a Jedi who heard his words.

"But we're winning," another protested.

Both were young and after having just witnessed a master obliterate an entire platoon they were no doubt filled with hope. Trey hated to tear it away from them, but it was necessary.

"This battle was lost the moment the Sith killed the Chancellor," he said truthfully. "Despite her final words Republic forces across the planet will no doubt be surrendering. Some will continue to hold but it will be enough, the Sith have won."

A chorus of murmurs and cries of grief spread through the gathered Jedi.

"But though the Republic may be defeated does not mean the Jedi are lost as well. We can still rebuild and someday we may see the Republic restored. But not today, today we must save as many lives as we can."

That seemed to comfort most of the more grief stricken Jedi and gradually he saw strength return to their tired eyes.

"What should we do?"

"Spread the word, all Jedi must fall back to the temple hangers. Those that cannot fight must be evacuated first, younglings and the elderly."

An older Knight nodded and began to gather others for a runner's mission to spread Trey's message. Trey asked for volunteers to hold this section of the temple until the evacuation was complete and was rewarded with a dozen willing knights.

"What I should do?" asked Nadia.

"Take a few Jedi with you to the speeder bay."

"You want me to help with the evacuation?"

"No, I need you to get help from the military. Most of our ships are either too small or too damaged for a proper evacuation and none of them will be able to break through the Sith blockade. We'll need help or we'll never be able to get off the planet."

Nadia's eyes widened at the truth but then resolve replaced alarm and she nodded calmly. "I understand, I won't fail you."

Trey smiled lovingly. "I know you won't."

Quickly the Miraluka checked to make sure that the other Jedi had left or were too busy talking with one another. Once he was sure they wouldn't be seen, Trey stepped forward and gave Nadia a chaste kiss on the lips.

Without any real thought to his movement, Trey's hand brushed against Nadia's stomach. To his surprise he saw something he did not expect. He saw a white light twinkling like star inside her stomach. It was small, almost imperceptible against the warm and comforting aura that Nadia emanated. But while his lover's aura was of the same golden light as her saberstaff blades, this was a pure light, it was innocent and untainted by the darkness of the galaxy. In Trey's experience only one life form could give off such an aura.

A sharp breath signaled his surprise, abruptly he broke the kiss and pulled away from her. Nadia looked disappointed, but then she saw the fear in his features.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"N-Nadia," his hands were shaking, "you're **pregnant**."

His words were so quiet and soft that to others they might as well have not been said at all. But to Nadia her lover's words were absolutely deafening.

"W-what?" Now she was shaking. "N-no I'm not. A-at least I don't think...I mean...we've been so careful! I've been taking pills and…" Nadia's words slowly trailed off as her hands slowly rose to cradle her stomach. She looked like she was going to sick.

Trey wanted to say something to comfort her. To tell her that it was going to be be alright. But the shock had simply been too great and any words that he formed would simply come off as a lie. He himself could barely believe his own words.

Nadia was pregnant with his child, an unsanctioned child born of an unsanctioned marriage.

Before either of them could speak again the temple shook around them, waking both of them from their stupor. Trey realized that no matter how great the revelation now was not the time to be distracted by it. Right now they had to focus on their duties to the Jedi Order.

"Go!" said Trey as he pulled away and moved to join the other Jedi, "I will delay the Empire for as long as I can! But you are our only hope!"

* * *

Jedi: nauseatingly devout followers of the light. Always preaching of their beliefs on peace and non-attachment, it made her sick. As three of said preachers ignited their lightsabers and attacked while she entered their temple, Nox channeled her rage, building it, harnessing it, until finally she raised up her hands and unleashed it.

A massive storm of purple lightning erupted from her fingertips and struck her attackers. They howled and cried in agony for a brief few seconds before their hearts ceased to beat and their smoldering corpses decorated the floor.

 _How_ _ **considerate**_ _of the Jedi_. Nox callously stepped on their bodies and wiped her boots on their robes before continuing inside.

She was soon joined by a small battalion of soldiers. Unlike the troops sent into the temple before these soldiers were in fact members of Nox's own private army. Each had once been a devout member of one of her cult: The Cult of Nox. All of them were fanatical in their loyalty towards her; as they approached her from behind they all fell to their knees in worship.

The major of the battalion, identified by his great coat and officer's helmet, greeted her piously. "My goddess, praise to your terrifying beauty and power!"

The rest of the battalion mimicked his greeting but louder. "PRAISE TO THE GODDESS!"

Though armed and armored like standard troopers of the Imperial army, each member of Nox's militant cult could be identified by the red lines that crisscrossed their helmets in emulation of Nox's own facial tattoos.

"You may rise," the Sith commanded evenly, for her this kind of praise was a daily occurrence.

With vigor, as though it were the most important act they ever do, the battalion major and his troops rose to their feet.

"What is your name major?"

The major, a middle aged human, gasped and nearly began to bawl with delight. His goddess wanted to know his name! "This insignificant yet most loyal servant you see before you is humbly known as Major Caius.

"Hm," Nox grunted indifferently. He would do for this task.

"Follow me major, it is time to hunt some Jedi." Without a hint of hesitation or fear they marched obediently behind her in perfect formation. When they entered into the temple, Nox gave orders to the major to have his men move through the temple and kill or capture any Jedi they came across.

Eagerly Major Caius followed his given orders and Nox's cultists moved into the temple. A few minutes later Nox could hear the sound of blaster fire, pious warcries, and lightsabers igniting, indicating that her cultists had found their targets.

"My goddess," Major Caius announced himself, "may I approach you?"

"I suppose," Nox replied indifferently. Though she never get tired of the worship, it could sometimes get in the way of her cultist's common sense. But then again common sense was boring.

"Thank you my goddess, your kindness is only eclipsed by your-"

"Just tell me what you want," Nox snapped impatiently. Caius was immediately kneeled in penitence.

"Forgive me my goddess. I simply wished to say that I have put together a squad of my best men to accompany you through the battlefield. Do you...accept?"

Nox stayed silent for a moment to purposefully cause Caius to squirm in anticipation before finally giving her answer. "Very well, I'm sure I can find something for them to do."

"Thank you my goddess! Thank you! You do me and my men great honor!"

A squad of twelve cultists presented themselves to her. Without even being ordered to they followed their goddess into the halls of the Jedi temple.

Nox doubted that she need them for actual protection. But she was a fickle creature and often seemingly insignificant things caught her attention. These guards might prove themselves useful performing some menial task if such a thing were to arise.

She strode along comfortably and confidently through the battle raging around her, hardly paying attention to any of the carnage she herself did not create. Then Nox suddenly found herself beset by five Jedi who had noticed her and broken away from the main battle. No doubt they recognized her, she had something of a reputation among their order.

Her squad of cultists and her personal bodyguard, the Dashade: Khem Val, immediately sprang to to their master's defense.

It was unnecessary but Nox bathed in the worship of her followers and such acts tickled her fancy even when they were unneeded.

Khem drew the massive sword magnetically clamped to the back of his armor and let loose a bloodthirsty roar as he charged first Jedi. The second Jedi was beset upon by the squad assigned to her by Major Caius. Six of the soldiers drew vibroblades and engaged the Jedi in melee while the others supported their fellows with streams of blaster fire.

The remaining three Jedi blew past her retinue to engage Nox directly.

"You're terror ends today Nox!" announced the lead Jedi Knight, a middle aged male Mirialan.

Nox casually stroked her chin. "Hmmmm...No!"

Nox blasted the Mirialan knight with a powerful stream of purple lighting. The Jedi attempted to raise his lightsaber in defense but was far too slow. The lightning roasted him and made the Jedi squirm delightfully before finally succumbing to the pain.

The remaining two Jedi stared at their comrade's smoking corpse with absolute horror.

"Awww, he broke," pouted Nox, genuinely disappointed that he'd died so quickly.

"MONSTER!" roared one of the Jedi. Together the two of them threw out their hands, casting a unison Force push, the strength of which would have toppled an Imperial walker. Nox snorted in amusement and casually brushed it aside with a wave of her hand, redirecting it into a nearby pillar which promptly shattered from the impact.

The Jedi were in disbelief that their attack had been so easily defeated. Savoring the despair on their faces Nox raised a finger and wagged it back and forth.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, naughty little Jedi. Naughty deeds need to be punished."

She took this moment to take a good look at the Jedi. The one who had called her names was a yellow scaled male Nikto who was utterly forgettable. The other one however was beautiful light skinned human female with a pixie cut blonde hair and a curvaceous form that showed even through the drab robes of the Jedi.

She might provide the Zabrak Sith with some amusement.

With a set objective in mind, Nox raised her hand in preparation to cast. The two Jedi immediately raised their lightsabers having seen what happened to their companion. But instead of lightning a spherical of viscous blackish energy formed in her palm.

Nox splayed her fingers and the black sphere shot towards the Mirialan Jedi.

Not recognizing the Sith sorcery but fearing its power the Mirialan quickly attempted to avoid the dark projectile. However as it raced towards him the sphere expanded and transformed itself into a flat circle that encompassed far more space. The Jedi noticed this too late and was caught in the field.

Almost instantly the Mirialan's healthy green skin began to wrinkle and decay into an ugly pale gray. His muscles receded, eyes bulged, teeth fell out as the Jedi turned into a withered dry husk of his former self. Finally he collapsed to the floor and with a puff, became but dust.

This was the effect of the Force power known as the **Death Field**.

The last remaining Jedi screamed as loud as her lungs would allow.

"NOOOOO!"

"Aww, poor girl, were you two close?" The Zabrak's voice was laced with false pity.

With an angered screech and tears streaming from her eyes, the Jedi charged Nox with her blue lightsaber raised to deliver a killing strike. Nox raised her hand a third time and the Jedi's rage fueled attack was stopped cold as she became rigidly frozen in place. The Jedi struggled against her invisible bonds but Nox's hold was absolute.

A giddy smile spread itself on the Zabrak's full lips as she walked towards the frozen Jedi exaggerated swings of her hips. Upon reaching the Jedi Nox suggestively ran her hand up the Jedi's abdomen.

Fear struck the Jedi's heart and her breaths became haggard and heavy with terror.

"Oh are you afraid?" Nox's whisperes blew hot breath against the Jedi's ear. "Don't worry, I won't hurt you."

Her hand moved higher and higher.

"In fact…"

The Zabrak lewdly cupped the young Human's left breast in her hand.

"I can be quite fun to be around."

Those last words were punctuated with Nox dragging her wet tongue along the side of the Jedi's face, eliciting a scared whimper from the young human. By then Khem had finished tearing out his opponent's throat with his teeth and the cultists had managed to kill their Jedi with only two casualty on their side, impressive considering none of them were Force sensitive.

Though she would have liked to continue playing with the tasty morsel that was the squirming Jedi in her hands. Nox knew there were other pleasures to be found in the temple and that she wouldn't find them staying here. The Zabrak brought up the hand she wasn't using to grope the Jedi and tapped a single finger against the young woman's forehead. The blonde woman's eyes rolled into the back of her head. When Nox released her grasp on the Jedi and she fell limply to the ground.

"You," she called to the Imperial soldier with a sergeant's pauldron. "Place binders on this Jedi, then assign two men to take her to my personal shuttle."

The sergeant did so without question.

With at least one prize secured, Nox prepared to continue on and find more.

"My master," Khem Val interrupted her thoughts, "the cursed Jedi's archives are nearby, we shall soon be able to complete the Emperor's mission."

Oh...right...that. Nox had admittedly almost completely forgotten about the mission assigned to her by the Emperor. Damn. Oh well, visiting the Jedi's sacred archives did actually sound like fun. Who knew what sorts of juicy secrets these prudish monks were hiding away or what lost knowledge she could pilfer from their vaults.

"My lord?"

"Hmm?" Nox had apparently been lost in her own thoughts.

"Shall we proceed?" asked Khem.

"Yes yes, let us go."

* * *

As soon as the aura of suffocating purple miasma washed over him, Trey knew exactly who was leading these insane fanatical troops.

"For the Goddess!" screamed one cultist before Trey swiftly decapitated him.

Darth Nox. This had to be her.

Only she would have her followers refer to her as a "goddess". It would have been funny if Trey didn't find it so horribly disturbing. He strongly suspected that some sort of brainwashing was the method in which the Zabrak Sith instilled such loyalty in her minions.

Though her mere presence in the temple was enough to make him feel like he'd taken a swim in a trash compactor, Nox being here presented Trey with a unique opportunity. If he could defeat their "goddess" then the battalion of cultists that followed Nox would scatter from having their moral broken, such was the weakness of placing so much importance on a single person.

 _Cut the head off the snake!_ As an old friend of his had once said.

"Death to the Jedi!" Trey turned to see a squad of six soldiers rushing towards him, blasters firing wildly. He easily dodged or deflected their blaster bolts and prepared to deal with them all with a single Force push, when suddenly a familiar large Trandoshan landed in their midsts.

"Watch me Scorekeeper!" Qyzen Fess hissed. A massive vibroblade flashed in his claws and with just two swings he cut down four of the squad. One of the survivors foolishly tried to strike the large Trandoshan with the butt of his weapon only for Qyzen to grab him by the neck and brutally tear out his throat using razor sharp claws.

The last cultist wisely tried to retreat before Qyzen fired a stun net from his gauntlet that pinned the man to the ground. The Trandoshan hunter quickly ended the trapped man with a downward thrust that went through the human and dug into the floor below.

"Qyzen!" Trey called to his friend.

The Trandoshan acknowledged the Jedi with a friendly wave before yanking his blade from the corpse.

"Herald!" Qyzen respectfully bowed. During their first adventure together in which Trey and Qyzen had met, the Trandoshan hunter had come to believe that the Miraluka was the "Herald of the Scorekeeper", an avatar of a Trandoshan goddess. And though Trey had tried to dissuade him, the many adventures that they had shared only reaffirmed Qyzen's beliefs. After a while Trey simply stopped trying to convince him otherwise.

"It's good to see you well, my friend."

"Is good to see you as well Herald. The Scorekeeper watches closely today, many Jagannath points will be earned."

Jagannath points were a religious point system of the Trandoshans. Part of the reason Qyzen was so convinced that Trey was the Scorekeeper's herald was because they earned so many together.

"As you say, though I wish that it did not come at the cost of so much innocent life."

Qyzen nodded understandingly, for while he enjoyed fighting he found it disdainful to kill what his species referred to as "soft things" or those who were defenseless.

"Is cause for more hunting. I run into little Nadia while defending soft younglings. She say that Herald requires assistance."

"Indeed my friend. I could use your help in hunting a target worth a particularly large amount of points."

A toothy grin made its way onto Qyzen's scaly lips. "It would be honor to hunt with you Herald."

* * *

On her way to the archives Nox was beset by more foolish Jedi. She didn't mind, it gave her more opportunities to find new toys. It was like shopping really.

The first group that attacked was fully of ugly old boring Jedi, none of the caught her eye in the slightest. She let Khem devour them and the Dashade had only been too happy to comply.

The second group she decided to cast her illusions upon. The helpless Jedi suddenly came to believe that a swarm of flesh eating bugs was attacking them. It had been incredibly amusing to see them claw and tear at their skin to get rid of the "bugs" burrowing into their skin. One Jedi even tore out their own eyes and another who hadn't sustained a single injury simply died from pure fear. But once the show had ended, Nox felt disappointment at not having procured any new playthings.

Fortune smiled on her with the third group however which contained two beautiful female Zeltron Jedi. Both had enviable hourglass figures, neon blue hair, and feminine heart shaped faces. They looked so similar that Nox decided they must be twins. Quickly she dispatched their two companions with a single Death field and then promptly subdued the Zeltrons with a combination of Force powers and her retinue.

The Zeltron twins cost her five of her guards, but knowing the sensual reputation of their species, Nox would have gladly paid ten times the number. The remaining cultists she had secure the twins and escort them back to her personal shuttle.

And so she continued on with only Khem as her companion.

Eventually, Nox found her way into what she could only assume was what remained of the Jedi archives. A smile touched her lips. _Excellent_! Here lay the records of all Jedi knowledge. What caught her interest she would take for Revan, keeping a few bits for herself, and whatever was left she would leave for the lesser lords to fight over.

Just as she was about to begin picking through the records at her leisure Nox suddenly slammed her from the side and she found herself tumbling through the air. The Sith smashed into a wall hard enough to crack the Temple's structure.

Were it not for the constant Force barrier she kept surrounding herself at all times she would have become nothing more than a red smear...a very lovely red smear. But thanks to her foresight Nox was able to peel herself off the wall and casually brush off stray pieces of debris. She turned to face her attacker and she licked her lips in anticipation.

With grandiose theatrically she spoke. "The Barsen'thor, Warden of the Order! Great Healer of the Dark Plague! Hero of the Rift Alliance! And Bane of Vitiate's Children!" Nox gave an overdramatic bow. "What an honor it is to meet you!"

"You know my face and my history," the Jedi commented simply, stepping out into the light as he did.

The Miraluka Jedi exactly as Nox had seen him in the Republic's holovids. His broad shoulders and greater than average height provided him with a confident and even heroic stature. But the pure white robes he garbed himself in were plain and simple, save for a pattern of ancient glyphs sown into the trimming, and contradicted the previous notion with one of polite modesty.

As he raised his head to "look" at her Nox could see that the man's hood hid a mop of golden blonde hair and complimentary unblemished fair skin upon a depressingly handsome face. The man's angelic looks were marred only by the gray strip of cloth, with the same glyph pattern and his robes, that he used to cover his eyes.

Nox licked her lips hungrily. But this desire was not sensual as it had been with the female Jedi. No, men had been ruined for Nox many years ago during her slave years. This desire was of an even darker breed. It was the desire to corrupt.

Even just by standing across from her, bathed in the golden light of the sun, the Jedi oozed purity, peace, and self restraint. It sickened Nox, made her nauseous even. It stung her eyes to even look at this paragon of righteousness. Though he appeared serene Nox knew the Jedi's thoughts.

He looked at her like a noble would look upon a beggar: with pity. A pity stemmed from the belief that he was better than her. That underneath her domineering attitude she was a weak and fearful soul screaming out for assurance. And that it was only through this desperation that she turned to the Dark Side.

But he could not be further from the truth.

Nox turned to the Dark Side because it was where she belonged.

"Every Sith in the entirety of the Empire knows you Warden of the Order," Nox cackled menacingly. "The Wrath's hatred of you is absolutely legendary. It is the talk of noble gossip and hushed whispers in cantina bars. Why I haven't heard him express such a desire to kill since Master Shan."

The Barsen'thor recoiled slightly at the mention of the Wrath. Nox's smile widened and she pressed her advantage.

"A false paragon' he shouts, 'pretender' he screams, 'a true traitor' he'll rant, truly the Wrath has nothing but venom to describe you master Jedi. I am quite curious to know what offense you made towards him to earn such unrelenting hatred." As the Jedi hung to her words Nox subtly shifted herself closer towards him.

"I...I...that is no concern of yours Sith." Nox's smile became absolutely toothy. It was such rare thing to see a Jedi Master shaken. For the Barsen'thor it was completely unheard of.

"Oh but it is!" She continued to carefully shift forward while weaving a web of words. "You see I wish to know what his reaction will be when I toss your broken corpse at his feet. Will he be angry? Will he be sad? Will he be happy? Happy enough to reward me? I don't really go for men but I might make an exception for him."

By now Nox had closed nearly half the distance between them without the Jedi giving any indication of noticing.

"W-we made the wrong choice. But at the time…"

Though she would have loved to hear more, Nox knew that this was the best moment to strike. Only a quarter of the original distance remained between the two of them and the Jedi was unbalanced from Nox's words.

With a preternatural silence the Sith unclipped her saberstaff from her belt and executed a noiseless pounce towards her prey. The Barsen'thor only noticed he'd been hunted when purple blades of Nox's weapon extended with a heavy hum, but by then she was already executing a strike at his neck.

Against any other Jedi, even a Master, Nox's attack would have separated head from body. But this was no ordinary Jedi. He was the Barsen'thor, the Warden of the Jedi Order, and he would not fall so soon.

With an equally preternatural swiftness, the Barsen'thor's lightsaber leapt from his belt into his waiting raised hand. His emerald blade already sprang life before reaching his palm. The miasmic purple clashed violently with his vibrant green as the Jedi struggled to keep the Sith from decapitating him.

Nox cackled uncontrollably like the madwoman she was. "You should pay better attention! Wouldn't want to lose your head!"

The Jedi scowled as the Sith's presence suffocated him with her dark aura. With a shove he broke their blade lock and cast out his hand to throw out a Force push. Against most opponents the wave of telekinetic energy would have ended the fight. But Nox held out her own hand and "caught" the invisible wave before redirecting upwards where it smashed a crater into the ceiling.

In retaliation the Zabrak cast a bolt of crackling purple lightning. Master Wyse-mon mirrored the Sith's movements and deflected the lightning with his bare palm into the ground. Nox followed up with another bolt and Trey defended with his palm again, but this time he caught the lightning and allowed the energy to gather in his hand. Once Nox ceased her casting, Wyse-mon cast out the hand holding the purple energy and cast the lighting back at the reflected Sith lighting threatened to incinerate its original master but the Zabrak simply diverted the lightning again into a wall to her left.

Nox giggled maniacally and spun her saberstaff.

Wyse-mon was considerably less amused.

"I will not allow you to continue on further," stated the Barsen'thor, "continue upon this path and you will be destroyed. Turn back and I will allow you to leave unharmed."

Nox erupted with laughter.

"Jedi! Always so righteous, always trying to act like they are better than the rest of us. I'll never understand what drives you to believe that simply saying a few words will cause your enemy to give up. Oh, but no matter. It's time for you to die."

The rubble around the Sith's feet began to float to the height of her knees, lightning danced out from her body to scorch the tiled floor, and Nox's amber eyes flashed a poisonous purple light as she drew upon the darkness.

"You have been a thorn in the side of the Sith for a long time Jedi, you have slain many of our members and foiled many of our plans. But those Sith were not the Heir to the Dynasty of Kallig, and what is about to happen is not planned out in the slightest. It is simple violence. Pure, simple, violence."

"If that is your decision, then you leave me no choice." Wyse-mon raised his weapon into a classic Niman stance. "We shall meet our destiny."

"Yes, we will!" snarled Nox, "Khem! Attack!"

From the shadows the Sith's Dashade roared hungrily and leapt at the Jedi with his massive blade raised high above his head. But just as the Dashade's blade was about to come crashing down upon the Jedi a blur of green slammed into Khem Val, sending him sprawling to the floor. In his place stood a massive Trandoshan wielding an vibroblade and clad in heavy battle armor. The reptile hissed menacingly at the Khem as the Dashade stood back up and snarled back.

"Irritating beast! You dare challenge me?! I am Khem Val, servant of Nox, consumer of the Dromund system, and devourer of hundreds!"

"Then you shall gain me many Jagannath points! Scorekeeper, bear witness to my hunt!"

With a simultaneous roar, the two titans clashed their blades against one another.

"It seems that I'm not the only one who keeps good company," mused Nox, "no matter, Khem was simply here to make the process go smoother. Now that he's occupied, I'm afraid your death will be quite painful."

The Master of Ancient Knowledge levitated two meters into the air like a demonic spirit, eyes glowing like two purple suns, even as a maelstrom of lightning erupted out from her body.

" **Come then Jedi! Let us embrace death and see which of us is greater!"**

The Barsen'thor raised his free hand and held it to split his face. In the Force the Miraluka became like a supernova of golden light, a beacon of pure goodness and harmony.

"There is no death, there is only the Force."

* * *

Khem Val, servant of Darth Nox, could hardly comprehend what was happening right now.

He who had been the greatest shadow assassin of Urkupp.

He who had devoured one thousand Jedi at the Battle of Chabosh.

He who was feared by all enemies of the Sith.

He was being kept from assisting his glorious master by an overgrown reptile with a sharp piece of metal!

With a monstrous growl he swung his weapon, The Blade of Kaloth, with a strength beyond mortal comprehension. The Trandoshan hunter that pestered him somehow managed to duck underneath, allowing the ancient warblade to slice through a shelf of holorecords.

To Khem's great surprise the damnable lizard was actually fast enough to strike him across the jaw, even more surprising was that there was enough strength behind the blow to cause Khem to stagger back.

The Dashade assassin howled in indignation.

"You dare!?" he roared, "I will pull out your entrails and wear your skin as clothing!"

The Trandoshan hissed in reply. "When I offer your corpse to the Scorekeeper, I shall keep your blade as my prize!"

Anger erupted through Khem Val. This lowly hunter wished to take his sacred blade?! He was not worthy to decorate it with his blood! With a roar Khem stabbed his weapon into the floor and charged forward.

The act surprised his opponent long enough for the Dashade to ram into the Trandoshan and carry him into another shelf. But to the assassin's surprise the hunter merely laughed, tossed away his own blade, and then brought down both of his claws in dual heavy blows on top of Khem's armored back.

Qyzen's strikes were like hammers and the Dashade's knees buckled underneath the attack. It was enough for the hunter to push away his opponent. As Khem reeled from the embarrassment of being pushed back, Qyzen charged into him.

Khem reacted by digging his heels into the floor and allowing the Trandoshan to crash into him. The juggernauts struggled against each other in a titanic clash of strength. In the corner of his eye, Khem saw that his master had unleashed her true power and his lamprey like mouth widened in anticipation.

"My master has brought forth her true power beast! Your Jedi leash holder will soon feed her unquenchable thirst!"

Qyzen snapped his toothy maw at the Dashade.

"The Herald of the Scorekeeper will not fall! He will purify all corruption and destroy your tainted thing!"

As the two servants continued their struggle the battle between their masters reached new levels.

* * *

Trey had been in many battles against many Sith. But few had ever been as dark or as powerful as Darth Nox. The Dark Council member was quite possibly the most powerful and evil Sith he had ever fought. Not even the First Son of the Emperor had radiated such deep raw darkness. Nor had the favored child of Vitiate been so skilled and varied in the techniques and powers of the Dark side.

Lighting was a constant in most battles concerning Sith. Nox's application was particularly overwhelming and intense. Tendrils of scorching purple eldritch energy scorched the temple floor, surrounding its caster the Sith Inquisitor in blinding storm of dark power. Nox needed only cast out a single hand and dozens of bolts of lightning would strike her intended target. Trey was forced to keep his hands in constant motion, foregoing the defense of his lightsaber upon realizing that this conflict had progressed beyond the plane of martial combat. His palms worked furiously in circular motions to absorb or deflect the assault of what felt like thirty different Sith at a time.

" **Dance for me Jedi!"** Screamed Nox as she cast another barrage of lightning.

Trey threw up his hands and the storm of purple energy scattered before it could sear his flesh.

" **Futile!"** Nox stretched out her hands, but instead of lightning Trey saw a dozen spheres of pure darkness, the size of a man's head, formed around her in a perfect circle. With a mad laugh she propelled them forth at her Jedi opponent.

Trey managed to dodge the first with relative ease. But as he did he saw it's horrid effects as it putrefied the very air it traveled through and rendered the floor beneath it into sand. The Miraluka Jedi quickly recognized these spheres as the obscure dark side power known as the Death Field, and they were all coming straight for him.

Trusting in the Force he threw out Wyse-mon threw out his hand and channeled waves of healing energy. Normally he would use this aspect of the Light to assist his fellow Jedi, but in this case he used it as an opposing current to the Death Field's life taking properties. By the time the spheres reached their target they had all but disappeared.

Death had been canceled by life.

" **Most impressive master Jedi, truly you are great. But you stand alone, whereas I...I AM LEGION!"**

The purple glow behind Nox's eyes became even greater.

Trey recoiled as his Force sight granted him a blinding view of the Sith's poisonus aura growing greater and greater. But then he saw that not all of it was hers, some of it belonged to others, but how?

Then the Barsen'thor truly saw.

He saw them manifest and step out from behind the curtain of their master's power. Spirits, ghosts of Sith long dead whose hatred and malice kept them leashed to the material world. At first there was only two, then two became four, four became six, and six became eight. Eight ghosts in service to the mad Sith. Trey saw the chains of darkside energy that kept their spectral forms enslaved to the Zabrak.

She threw out a single hand to throw forth a Force Push and her otherworldly slaves mirrored her movements. Trey immediately brought up a shield of his own power. The floor shattered as Nox's telekinetic assault traveled across the distance to crash into the Jedi's defenses.

The Barsen'thor screamed and nearly fell to his knees. To be attacked by so many at once, it felt like he was trying to hold back a starship from falling down ontop of him.

" **KNEEL BEFORE ME!"** bellowed Nox, her voice magnified by the words of her ghosts.

Trey struggled desperately against the telekinetic attack. But despite his best efforts he was unable to hold against the unrelenting siege of dark power. The Miraluka's body shook uncontrollably as he strained and railed against his attackers. Though he begged himself not to, the Jedi fell to one knee.

" **HAHAHAHA! YES! NOW YOU ARE WHERE ALL JEDI BELONG!"**

Trey dug his heels into the floor to stand back up but only succeeded in tear his own muscles. The weight pressing down upon him was so great that the floor around him had actually sunk beneath the pressure, leaving the small island he stood upon the last bastion of resistance. But try as he might, Trey knew that he could not stand against so many alone.

 _But in the Force, I am never alone._

The teachings of his masters echoed in his mind.

Though his legs felt as though they might shatter and his blood burned in his veins, Trey took a calming breath and cleared his mind. In the Force the Warden of the Jedi Order began to emanate a blinding light as though a being of divine origins. His presence in the Force burned so bright that Nox actually recoiled at the touch of his peaceful soothing aura.

" **WHAT?! NO! IMPOSSIBLE!"**

With a supernatural ease and calm, the Brasen'thor stood back up and repelled the tide of darkness threatening to engulf him. With preternatural grace the Miraluka sweapt out his arms and the light rushed forward to banish the darkness.

Nox screamed a banshee's wail as she was thrown from her levitation and the spectral servants chained to her vanished as they were unable to survive in the cleansing aura of the Light side. As the Jedi broke the chains that tied them to their Sith master, some of them cackled maliciously and threw curses at their enslaver.

Abandoned by her ghosts, Nox fell to one knee and glared hatefully at her enemy. If Trey had eyes, he would have simply stared back with pity.

"It's over." The words had no malice, it was a simple statement of fact.

Unexpectedly Nox cackled and Trey took a step back. How deep did the Zabrak's madness go?

"Over? Oh, you think you've taken away all my power. I admit, I didn't expect you to release my slaves like that." The Sith rose to her feet. "But if you believe that you have won….hehehehihihihi...then your light addled mind is even more delusional that I thought!"

Once again Nox's eyes burned like twin purple suns and a miasmic aura gushed from her body. Unexpectedly four more spectral Force entities step out from behind the Sith.

"You've destroyed much of my army and for that you shall pay. But I have more, just enough to…." The Zabrak's words trailed off.

Her spectral slaves vanished in puffs of red smoke and the venomous scowl she had worn ebbed away. Trey sensed that her thoughts of vengeance had disappeared and had been replaced by surprise and...fear?

What could this possibly….NO!

 _Not him! Not here! Not now!_ But no matter how much he tried to deny it the cold dark continued to encroach its way into the temple. Even Khem Val and Qyzen, whose sword fight had devolved into a bare knuckled brawl, ceased their battle upon sensing the foreboding aura.

Nox and Wyse-mon turned towards the entrance to see a Jedi stumble into the archives, Trey recognized him as one of those who had volunteered to stay. The man held onto his lightsaber with a death grip and looked up desperately at the Barsen'thor.

"M-master Wyse-mon, it's-" With a scream the Jedi was suddenly yanked off his feet back into the dark hallway, out of the Dark Council member and the Barsen'thor's sight.

But they heard his last words.

"No! No! Please! Please don't! PleaAAAAAAHHHHH!"

For a few moments the sounds of battle faded away and both Sith and Jedi held their breath in anticipation.

" **So it is you."**

The Barsen'thor's blood turned to ice and his heart skipped a beat. Fear, yes, fear pricked the back of his neck and he felt it begin to crawl its way into his skin. He knew that voice and right now it was the last thing he had wanted to hear.

From out of the darkness a dark figure stepped into the archives. Like an avatar of death he took away the breath of all those who sam him. There stood the Emperor's Wrath. Bane of the Jedi and the Butcher of Tython.

" **I sensed your presence, but I dared not hope it be true."** The Wrath's crimson lightsaber sprang to life. **"At last we meet."**

Trey took a step back. As soon as he did he heard another light-weapon activate. He turned to see that it was Nox with her saberstaff. Obviously she intended to assist the Emperor's executioner. But with a dismissive wave Nox deactivated her weapon and carefully moved into the shadows.

" **Staying to buy time for the elderly and the children. You have not changed at all."**

Trey finally found the words to speak. "So you do remember."

" **How could I possibly forget. I will never forget."**

For what felt like an eternity the Wrath and the Barsen'thor stared at one another. It was the Jedi who broke the silence first.

"Zale, I-"

" **DO NOT CALL ME THAT!"** the Wrath roared, his anger sent spider webs of cracks through the stone floor, **"that man is dead, he no longer exists! I am the Lord Wrath!"**

"I don't believe that," Trey said pleadingly, "I don't believe that the friend I knew-"

" **Friend?! HA! I know exactly who your friends are Barsen'thor!"** He pointed his lightsaber accusingly at the Jedi. **"Do you? Is it not those self righteous hypocrites on the Council? Because as I remember you always chose THEM above all others."**

"I didn't-"

" **Tell me Barsen'thor. Is their recognition everything you wanted it to be, Barsen'thor?"** theWrath spoke the name with disdain, **"Was it worth it? Was Kira's life! Worth! That! Title!?"**

Trey didn't speak, he just stared back silently. He made no move to defend himself and spoke no words to justify his actions.

" **I have waited for this day, this day of judgement,"** whispered the Wrath, his lightsaber snapping to life with a hiss. **"What say you then Barsen'thor? How do you plead?"**

Before he could fathom a response, Trey's communicator crackled and he heard Nadia's voice.

" _Trey move!"_

Without hesitation Trey threw himself back. A fraction of a moment later the ground between himself and the Wrath exploded as turbo laser fire rained down from above. The Jedi's ears began to ring as the ceiling of the Temple began to crumble and walls started to fall.

He managed to make out the hum of a ship's engines. Trey looked up and saw several Republic troop transport hovering down towards him. Three of the vessels came to halt just outside of the temple while one entered into the building and continued the descent till it came to a stop just above the floor.

Someone was calling him. Who was it? He could not make out the voice properly due to the disorienting ringing in his ear.

"Herald! Herald! We must leave!" hissed the booming voice of Qyzen, a clawed hand sized the Barsen'thor by his collar and dragged him to his feet. Together the Jedi and the Hunter sprinted towards the single shuttle. Its doors slid open to reveal Nadia, his wife, gesturing for him to hurry and get on the ship.

Qyzen climbed onto the ship while Trey practically leapt to his wife.

"Pilot! Take off!" she ordered. Immediately the dropship began to climb out of the temple and Nadia wrapped her husband in a bone crushing hug.

"I was so worried," she whispered into his ear.

Just as they were about to escape the temple, the rubble below suddenly exploded upwards. One piece of the debris clipped their shuttle's thruster, causing their ship to lose balance. Out of the smoke walked the Emperor's Wrath, untouched by the earlier barrage of turbolaser fire. The dark empty eyes of his mask turned upwards to see the ship carrying the Barsen'thor climbing higher and higher.

" **BARSEN'THOR! YOU RUN FROM YOUR JUDGEMENT?!"**

The Wrath cast a hand upwards.

"Evasive maneuvers!" ordered Trey. His shuttle's pilot managed to swing the ship to the side just as a bolt of blue Sith lightning struck up at them. To the Jedi's horror, though it missed its intended target the lightning still sliced through the bay of one of their escort gunships. The gunship pilot had only a moment to scream as his ship exploded into a fiery rain.

"Let's get out of here!" Trey heard their pilot shout.

The shuttle's thrusters roared and the ship shot towards the sky where the remnants of the Republic fleet hat gathered.

Before he lost sight of it, the optic lenses of his helmet zoomed in on the Jedi shuttle and graced him with an image of the Barsen'thor. Grimly the Jedi stared down at him and the Sith stared right back.

The Wrath let out a low growl of anger.

" **Run Barsen'thor! Flee from this system! Escape the very galaxy itself! You only delay your inevitable fate!"**

* * *

Though he could not hear the Wrath's final words to him, Trey could feel the anger directed at him by the Sith even at a distance where the temple seemed nothing more than a far off speck. With a gasp of relief Trey fell to the cabin floor and remained sitting there, happy to be able to breath without tasting of the darkside.

A soft warmth snuggled up against him and he immediately knew it to be his wife.

"Are you okay?" asked Nadia, the worry in her voice was palpable.

Though he did not need to to see her, Trey turned to regard her. Gently he touched his forehead to hers and then lovingly slid a hand onto her belly.

"Are you?"

Nadia placed a hand over his.

"I'm fine," she assured him. For a long moment the two remained silent in each other's embrace, but finally Nadia asked the question they had been both too afraid to ask.

"Trey...what...what are we going to do?"

Trey took a slow breath, something Nadia knew he did whenever he needed a moment to think. Finally he "looked" up into her eyes and spoke.

"I…" he began, "I am going to do everything I can to protect you until our child is born. And when it finally is, I'm going to be a father and you...you are going to be a wonderful mother. We'll raise it together, protect it together, and love it together."

A smile spread across Nadia's lips but it threatened to falter. "But Trey, with all that's happened...with all that's going to happen...how can you be so sure we'll be able to do that?"

"We will trust in Force as we always have. And I promise you, I will find a way for our family to survive."

Nadia's smile widened as she sniffled and wiped at her eyes. Finally she burst out in girlish giggles and buried her face in his chest.

"I'm gonna be a mommy!" she squealed.

"Little Nadia is with child?" asked Qyzen upon hearing Nadia's outburst.

Trey gave an amused sigh. He supposed if anyone beyond the two of them had the right to know, it was Qyzen.

"Yes my friend, we just found out today."

"Is joyus news! Child of Scorekeeper's Herald will be strong hunter indeed!"

Trey laughed at the Trandoshan's enthusiasm.

Suddenly the cabin's COM system crackled to life. _"Master Jedi, there's an incoming transmission for you, I'll patch it in for you now."_

Trey stood up with some help from Nadia just as the cabin's holoprojector came on and a life sized blue hologram of a large man appeared in the middle of the cabin. Trey immediately recognized the large and scarred man as the Supreme Commander of the Republic's military: Jace Malcom.

The Supreme Commander spoke with a deep baritone. _"Master Wyse-mon! I'm glad to see you managed to escape."_

"It is good to see that you are still alive as well Supreme Commander. Nadia tells me that there is a plan."

Malcom nodded. _"There is. Though the thought of retreating leaves a bad taste in my mouth, a good commander knows when to live to fight another day."_

Suddenly the Supreme Commander turned around as the sound of far off blaster fire caught his attention.

" _The Imps are knocking on our back door so I'll keep this brief. Our plan is to activate Coruscant's Ion Defense System. It's a planet wide network of ion cannons that taps directly into the planet's main electrical grid. By using it, we can launch a barrage of thousands of ion shots. The catch is...we can only do it once and when we do the entirety of Coruscant will be left without power for at least an hour."_

"So this is an all or nothing gamble."

" _Exactly. Which is why we only have one chance for a mass evacuation. Get to your ship fast, we'll be firing the network soon!"_

* * *

The Imperial Armada was quite possibly the greatest navy ever assembled in known galactic history. At least, that's what Admiral Kalak Solomon believed. Believed strongly! For what could possibly stand against the mighty war machines designed by Imperial minds, built by Imperial hands, and crewed by Imperial citizens.

Here the Admiral stood on an Imperial-Class Dreadnought, the backbone of the fleet, replacing the older Harrower-Class Dreadnought of the old regime. Though essentially the same shape and design the new Imperial-Class Dreadnoughts were larger than their predecessors, measuring a full 1.2 kilometers of pure machine.

Equipped with ten dual heavy turbolaser batteries for ship to ship combat, two dozen medium turbolaser turrets for point defense, a hangar filled with at least 100 smaller ships, and a crew of around 45,000, including the infantry complement.

It was the new terror of space and during war it had proved that it could easily outgun anything the Republic could throw at it, sometimes even take on their ships two to one.

Admiral Solomon may not have agreed with all the reforms the new Emperor had put in place, equality for aliens being one of them, but he couldn't complain with the new found focus on the war.

"Admiral, a broadcast from the Emperor to the Fleet," reported an Ensign, "A group of Republic ships is headed towards our quadrant of the blockade. Their going to try to break through sir!"

"Ha! Let them try! Command all ships to prepare to open fire. Burn them from the skies and send them back down to the planet!"

"Sir...I'm picking up a large energy reading from the planet's surface," spoke another Ensign.

"And?"

"Well sir, I think it might be an-"

* * *

"An ion cannon my Lord," Colonel Quinn reported to the Lord Wrath, "at least, that is what preliminary scans suggest. It would appear that it was hidden from scans on account of being placed under the planet's surface."

" **I care not how they hid it, right now all that matters is that it represents a danger to our blockade. I want you to gather your men and bring that ion cannon down Quinn!"**

"Yes my lord", with a bow Quinn ended the transmission.

Then, as if on cue, the ground shook as the ion cannon fired off its first round. Though unfortunate Quinn knew that just one shot from the ion cannon would not be enough to completely break the blockade, there was still time.

Then in the far off distance, another ion cannon fired.

* * *

Admiral Solomon's dreadnought, ironically named _Untouchable_ , was the first to be hit by the planet's massive ion cannon network. Solomon was forced to brace himself against the railing of his deck as the _Untouchable's_ stabilizers failed and his ship began to drift through the void of space. Despite the ship's lights going completely dark the Admiral knew that the crew around him were in a panic.

"Calm down you idiots!" he screamed, immediately creating an orderly silence. "Good! Now someone give me a damn status report!"

"Engineering reports electrical failures!"

"Stabilizers are offline!"

"Life support is on emergency power!"

"Weapons are down!"

Admiral Solomon cursed. Still, it was just his ship that was down and the might of an armada did not rest on a single ship. There were still plenty of other dreadnoughts in the fleet to fill in the _Untouchable's_ position.

"Who's in charge of COM's?"

"Uh...me sir." Solomon suspected the faceless voice in the darkness was raising their hand. He also strongly suspected that the young man, for that is who the voice sounded like it belonged to, was an idiot.

"And you are?"

"Ensign Polder sir!" The admiral heard Polder snap a salute, wasted on the lightless deck.

"Very well, Ensign Polo, contact the fleet and tell them what has transpired. The blockade must not be compromised!"

"Yes sir I'll...sir look!" Solomon could not see what Ensign Polder was pointing at but he soon figured it out for himself. A barrage of blue plasma had erupted from the surface of Coruscant. Through the observation glass Solomon watch in horror as ship after ship was struck by debilitating ion blasts and rendered helpless in the void of space.

An quadrant of the Imperial blockade had been rendered useless, nothing more than chunks of machinery floating in formation. By the Emperor! How had Imperial intelligence missed that the Republic had such a weapon on Coruscant?!

"Ensign Poto! Where's the rest of the fleet?!"

"I'm trying sir! But I can't get a signal through!"

Then, as abruptly as it had come, the barrage of ion ceased. That's when Solomon saw something that made this situation much worse: The Republic Fleet.

"No!" he screamed uselessly at the incoming ships, "NOOOOO!"

With the blockade broken, what remained of the Republic steamrolled right on through, firing at the helpless ships as they passed by. From there they slipped into hyperspace, leaving the Empire to burn what was left of the planet.

* * *

With every ship he saw jump to hyperspace felt his spirits rise. Hundreds of ships carrying thousands of refugees each had managed to break through the Imperial blockade. Despite the Sith's best efforts, the Republic would not die today.

Suddenly the holographic display of Coruscant in the middle of the control room suddenly changed from a bright blue to a dull red.

"Sir! Power levels at zero percent! The Ion Defense System is offline. Shall I begin the recharge cycle?"

The entire control room shuddered, nearly knocking the entire staff of their feet.

"Don't bother," said Jace. With practiced fluidity the Supreme Commander pulled out his blaster pistol, the same one he'd had during his days in Havoc squad, and checked to make sure he had a full charge. Around the room he saw other staff doing similar checks to their weapons.

To his right Agent Theron Shan pulled out a blaster carbine from under a console. Quickly he slapped a magazine into the weapon and gave Jace a firm nod, one that Jace quickly returned. Another shudder shook the control room, but this time Jace could hear the explosion that caused it. It did not sound far off, which meant that the Imps were almost here.

"Everyone listen up!" Jace's heavy voice boomed throughout the room.

"As Supreme Commander of the Republic, I order all of you to evacuate, and to find safety."

Jace saw surprise touch every member of his staff, including Theron.

"There's an emergency escape hatch in the supply closet. Agent Shan knows it. All the ships are gone but there's still a possibility to escape into Coruscant's lower levels. I'll stay here and hold off the Imps, buy you all as much time as I can."

This time his staff could not contain themselves.

"What?!"

"No way!"

"We're not leaving you here!"

"No one get's left behind!"

Only Theron remained silent. Part of Jace was proud to see the boy remain in control of his emotions, another part of him felt as though he'd just taken a punch to the gut.

"That's enough!" Jace's voice thundered through the room, quieting the entire staff in submission. "Last I checked you were all still soldiers in the Army of the Republic, and I was you're commanding officer! Or have I been leading a school room of children this entire time?!"

"No sir!" His staff replied in unison.

"Good! Now it's time for you all to leave. They may have won the war, but they will never defeat us. I've had my time, the rest is up to you."

Jace snapped a crisp salute to the entirety of the room. "It's been an honor serving with each and every one of you."

The staff returned his salute with equal fervor.

"Now go! Get out of here!" One by one men and women under his command retreated towards the supply closet. Only Theron remained unmoving.

"Perhaps you didn't realize Agent Shan, but my orders were to all present. I realize that as an SIS agent you're used to playing loose with orders, but there's no room for reinterpretation this time."

"Why are you doing this?"

Jace pretended to check his weapon again before replying. "A good commander knows when to fight and when to retreat."

"Then retreat! You know what we'll be up against out there, we'll need someone like you to lead us!"

"Negative Agent Shan. If Imperial forces don't find me here then they'll devote their efforts towards hunting me down. If I stay here the others at least have a shot to escape while the Imps are busy celebrating celebrating."

"Damn it Malcom!" Theron grabbed the much bigger man by the collar, "don't do this! For once in your life just listen to reason!"

Silence passed between the two, broken only by another shudder of the building. This time Jace heard the explosion that caused it. The Imps were getting near, it was almost time. Jace placed a hand on Theron's shoulder and pushed him back.

"It's time for you to go Theron."

"Come with us! We can still lose them together!" The SIS Agent's pleas were tinged with desperation. Jace shook his head.

"I'm sorry...my son, but it look's like I won't be there for you again."

Theron was silent.

"I raised you the best that I could. Forgive me for not doing any of it right."

"Father…" Theron choked out the words hoarsely, tears threatened to stream from his eyes.

"You better get going son. They'll need you to lead them out there."

Wiping his eyes, Theron gave a curt nod and ran after the rest of the staff. Jace had already decided not to watch his son leave. For he knew that if he did, he would never be able to stay and do what needed to be done.

As though on cue a burst of sparks appeared at the top of the control room's door. Jace knew that the door was a foot of pure durasteel, which meant that the only thing capable of cutting through it was a lightsaber, and a lightsaber meant Sith.

Good, it had been a long time since he'd put one of those evil bastards in their place. Jace raised his weapon and plucked a thermal detonator from his belt, thumbing the activation stud. Tensely he watched crimson light make its way down the middle of the door. When it finally reached the bottom the door slid apart, Jace immediately activated his thermal detonator and tossed it.

A squad of Imperial troopers stepped into the control room only to be shredded apart in a single explosion, most died immediately and those that did not were quickly finished off by well placed shots. But even as their comrades fell, more Imperial troopers stormed into the control room. Jace dove behind a nearby console for cover. Red blaster bolts splashed across the machinery, causing it to shower him with sparks, but he ignored it and returned fire.

On his off time Jace had done his best to keep his skills with a blaster sharp. His constant practice showed its pay off as trooper after trooper fell to accurately placed shots. But despite his holding his own, Jace saw that he would soon be overwhelmed. For every trooper he managed to put down another two advanced to replace him.

In the corner of his right eye Jace saw movement he knew to be a flanking maneuver. Quickly he shifted his fire, managing to take one of the advancing troopers in the neck with a single shot. The rest took advantage of their comrade's death and peppered Jace's position with blaster fire.

Jace moved back into cover too late, a single shot connected with his shoulder and he hit the ground. He clenched his teeth in pain and managed to remain coherent enough to activate another thermal detonator and toss it at his flankers.

Seeing him weakened the Imps became bold and chose to rush him, big mistake.

Jace stood up and gunned them down. Three more troopers went down, but not before another managed to fire a shot that grazed his side. He quickly put two blaster rounds into the offending Imp only to take another shot, this time on his leg.

With a heavy thud, Jace Malcom collapsed to the ground.

"He's down!"

Weakly the Supreme Commander crawled to a nearby console and propped himself up against it. Jace knew that this was it. His blood was splattered on the floor despite the cauterizing properties of blaster bolts and his breaths came in shorter and shorter bursts.

A pair of perfectly shined black boots entered his blurring vision. With what strength he had left Jace raised his head to look at their owner in the eye. Unlike Jace, whose visage was covered in scar tissue from a close proximity detonation of a grenade, the man staring down at him looked like he belonged on the cover of a holomag, or maybe a poster for Imperial propaganda.

"Supreme Commander Jace Malcom."

"And you are?"

"Colonel Malavai Quinn," the Imperial officer raised his sidearm, one hand tucked behind his back, and aimed it down at Jace. "I am here to kill you."

Jace sneered, this pretty boy Imperial was like a walking embodiment of everything he hated about the Empire's officers. A bunch of soft fops who spent more time in a command center than on the front. One look at Quinn's perfect skin and clean uniform was enough for Jace to know that he preferred to lead from the back.

"You didn't kill me pretty boy. They did," he gestured weakly at the dead Imperials on the floor. "You're just here to take credit for it."

That brought a scowl to Quinn's pretty features. "Defiant even in the face of the Republic's end."

Somehow Jace managed to let out a soft chuckle, causing Quinn to raise a quizzical brow.

"Is there something amusing about your predicament that you'd like to share? Perhaps you find the prospect of imminent death hilarious?"

"No, it's just, heh...you don't even realize that you're going to lose."

Quinn snorted haughtily. "Blood loss has addled your mind."

"Our ships are away and my men have escaped. They'll keep fighting."

"Then they will die. Just like those before them, just like the Jedi, and just like you."

"Each and every one of them carries a spark of hope. They'll live, they'll continue on, and they'll spread their sparks onto others. One by one until the fires of hope will be lit. No matter how many you kill, you'll never be able to destroy the hope that one day the galaxy will be free of evil like yours."

Colonel Quinn's scowl deepened, producing some hilariously strong frown lines on his face. Jace would have burst out laughing if it weren't for the risk that he might cough out the rest of his blood. With the scowl still on his face, Quinn placed his finger on the trigger of the pistol and stared Jace straight in the eye.

"Whatever the future may be, you won't be alive to-"

With the remains of his strength Jace jerked his weapon up and pulled the trigger. It was a shot meant more for defiance than to cause any real damage. But by some stroke of luck on Jace's part, or misfortune for Quinn, the blaster bolt grazed the side of the imperial's right eye. Quinn immediately dropped his pistol and grabbed the side of his face while screaming in pain. Two Imperial troopers immediately moved to assist him, but the Colonel pushed them away.

With his one remaining eye, Quinn glared bloody rage at him. Jace knew he was definitely going to die now. But to know that the pretty boy Quinn was going to spend the rest of his life with his perfect features messed up was enough to make Jace smile, even as a dozen Imperial troopers turned their blasters on him.

With an almost gentle ease, Jace closed his eyes and recalled the words that his one time Jedi lover had been fond of: _There is no death, there is only the Force_.

"I'm coming Satele," he whispered and closed his eyes.

"DON'T JUST POINT YOUR WEAPONS YOU IDIOTS! SHOOT HIM!"

Jace felt no pain as a bolt after bolt of red energy struck him, for he had actually died a few seconds before the first shot was fired. Thus Supreme Commander Jace Malcom met his end defending the last vestiges of the Republic, with a weapon in his hand and a smile on his ragged lips.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Damn that was a long update. I hope you all aren't too mad about me killing the entirety of Havoc squad, but I felt like it was necessary. When the Republic is in it's dying moments, it would only be natural for Havoc to come out and protect the Chancellor, which would in turn put them on a collision course with the Wrath. Once that happens, none of them could realistically walk away.**

 **Darth Nox, my Sith Inquisitor, was a lot of fun to write. She brings a bit of crazy evil compared to the Wrath's stoic evil. There will be more of her later.**

 **Yes, Jace Malcom is dead, which means Theron Shan is effectively an orphan. I'm so sorry Theron, I really like your character and it kills me to do this to you. But it will all be important in the future.**

 **For those of you who are thinking "where is the crossover I was promised!?" don't worry, the next chapter will be all about Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy! Yay!**

 **Please review, favorite, and follow!**


	4. Chapter 1: Mass Effect

**Star Wars is owned by Disney. Mass Effect is owned by Bioware.**

 _RaptorMaximus: Thank you! You'll see how they stack up in future chapters!_

 _Evolution: That's a possibility!_

 _andrei666999666: Oh that's going to be a big part of the story but it won't come till later chapters._

 _Ordo11: Thank you, I loved that show_

 _fdsadsaw: Thank you and that's quite the theory, I'm glad my story got you thinking so hard._

 _Guest since ch1: I love your pen name and thank you for your review! I hope you'll be pleased with this chapter as well! Please tell me what you thought! I hadn't given a lot of thought to how Nox would react to the Normandy crew, but what you ask for is definitely a possibility._

 _RabidArmenian: Oh yes he is! :)_

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 1 - Mass Effect**

* * *

 **Milky Way Galaxy**

 **Crescent Nebula, Tasale System**

 **2185**

Commander Alan Shepard stared down at the galactic map, watching as the small holographic representation of the _Normandy_ traveled towards its destination: Illium, which they were arrive at in just a couple short hours. Around him the bridge crew were similarly buried in their business, tackling the running of the advanced stealth ship with laser like focus. In fact most of them were devoting much more attention to their tasks than was truly required. Some might have found it strange, but Shepard found that he could not blame them for wanting to lose themselves in their work.

Just day ago, each and every one of them had been a prisoner of the Collectors. Abducted from the _Normandy's_ very halls and placed inside stasis pods. Many of them had almost suffered the same fate as the colonists of the planet Horizon, who had been melted down into an organic slurry to be fed to, of all things, a Human Reaper. But Alan and his team had gotten them out just in time.

Still, some scars ran deeper than the skin.

 **Kelly Chambers** , the _Nomrandy's_ Yeoman, Alan's personal aid and the ship's psychiatrist, was a good example of it. During his time in the Alliance, Alan had seen soldiers walk off battlefields without having suffered a single scratch and yet return home with the worst of injuries. They'd jump at the smallest of sounds, constantly be checking over their shoulder, leap out of bed screaming for their side arm, or like Kelly: they'd avoid certain areas and stay somewhere they felt safe.

For Kelly, her safe place was her terminal at the _Normandy's_ galaxy map. Normally Alan would not berate his crew for dutifully attending their post. But when they stayed at their post for upwards of 12 hours without food, sleep, or rest, then he started getting worried. As he moved down from the podium that allowed him to survey the galaxy map, Alan purposefully stomped his feet onto each step, creating enough noise for Kelly to know that he was moving towards her.

"Yeoman Chambers," he said, catching her attention. Despite his efforts the redheaded Yeoman recoiled slightly at his approach.

"C-Commander," she tried to hide her stutter and snap to attention, but Alan wasn't fooled. Her right hand desperately scratched at her leg pant while her eyes darted to the doors every other second. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"No, but there's something you can help yourself with."

"Uh…what?" This was bad, normally Kelly would giggle and make some witty remark. The fact that Alan had managed to stump her into silence did not bode well for her well-being.

"Kelly, you've been standing in that spot for the last 12 hours."

The red headed woman nervously kneaded her hands, something else she never did. "That's not true, I went to the bathroom about two hours ago."

"Mmmhmm," Alan crossed his arms, "and when was the last time you ate since you got off the Coll-"

Kelly's eyes immediately widened and Alan stopped himself.

"-since you got back," he corrected.

"Oh, I'm not hungry. I'm fine commander, really I am."

Alan shook his head. "Kelly, you're great at a lot of different things. But you're not a great liar."

The Yeoman tried to protest again but then her own stomach turned traitor by issuing an embarrassing loud growl. The redhead blushed fiercely and covered he belly with her hands, as though that would somehow quiet it. Alan sighed heavily.

"Kelly, please, get something to eat, grab some sleep, and take a few hours off. I'm sure I can manage my own email for a while."

Again Kelly nervously kneaded her hands and Alan sensed her hesitation.

"It's just…" she paused and Alan patiently allowed her to take it slow, "…to get to the cafeteria, I have to go through the hall where I…"

The redhead trailed off, quietly she wrapped her arms around herself, shut her eyes tight, and shuddered. Alan nodded, while the _Normandy_ was their ship it was also the site where the crew was attacked. Like victims of home invasion, the security Kelly had felt inside the _Normandy_ had been shattered and her traumatized mind now treated the halls of the ship like hostile territory. In all likelihood, Kelly would probably never feel safe inside the _Normandy_ ever again. But she was a member of his crew and so Alan had to try and help her get over it any way he could.

Gently he placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and she did not recoil.

"Kelly," he said quietly, "would you like to go to the cafeteria with me?"

The Yeoman opened her eyes, still wet with tears, and nodded softly. Wordlessly the two of them exited the CIC.

The ride down on the elevator was mostly quiet beyond the usual hum of machinery. Walking through the halls was a bit more eventful. Upon stepping into the exact hall where she had been grabbed by the Collectors, Kelly had frozen up and nearly broken down. To help her get through it, Alan allowed his Yeoman to grab him by the hand, close her eyes, and allow him to lead her to the cafeteria.

Upon arriving they found Mess Sergeant Gardner in the kitchen, as usual, and several other members of the crew eating at the table. Among them was **Zaeed Massani** who nursing a glass of dark beer, munching down on what looked to be a burger, and holding a smoking cigar. The elderly mercenary was the first to notice the arrival of the Commander and Chambers.

"Shepard!" Zaeed raised a glass in greeting, "pull up a chair and glass!"

"Celebrating?"

"Of course, we just blew up the mother of all bug nests! If that isn't cause for celebrating, I-" Alan made slashing motion, cutting off the rest of Massani's speech. The elderly mercenary raised a quizzical brow, the one above his bad eye, before seeing Kelly pop out behind Alan. Like the Commander, Zaeed immediately picked up on the queues of PTSD.

"I'm not so sure this was a good idea," Kelly said nervously.

"You need to get something eat Kelly, go on, get Gardner to whip something up for you."

Kelly still seemed hesitant so Zaeed added on. "You can take a seat next to me Red, I'll tell you about the time that I took captured a Salarian frigate with just five men, a box of matches, and a lot of bug spray."

Kelly actually chuckled. "Well, those burgers do smell quite good."

As the Yeoman moved to grab herself a plate and food, Alan gave a nod to Zaeed. "Thanks, I was afraid she was going to try and bolt."

"She's been through a lot," Zaeed chomped down on his cigar and took several huffs, "I've seen it all before. I'll stick around and keep a watch on her."

"You sure?"

Zaeed nodded. "There are worse ways to spend time than in the company of a pretty red head."

Alan let out a snort at the joke. "Thank you, after she's done could you take her to bed. She needs the rest."

This time Zaeed snorted. "You pimping me out Shepard?"

Alan just rolled his eyes. "Not like that, unless…she's into old and scarred."

A toothy smile spread onto the elderly mercenary's lips. "You'd be surprised just how many women are."

* * *

"Come on…Come on…Yes!" **Garrus Vakarian** cheered and pumped a talon into the air enthusiastically. He had successfully improved the _Normandy's_ weapon accuracy by _0.43_ percent. "And you said that it wasn't possible."

To his right, **Legion's** flashlight like eye performed the Geth equivalent of widening with shock. "Scanners indicated an increase of 0.32 percent was the maximum possible. How did you accomplish this Garrus Vakarian?"

Garrus smiled smugly. "A little secret we organics like keep: always hold some back for emergencies."

"Does this qualify as an emergency?" asked Legion.

"Someone telling me how to do calibrations? Yeah, I think that qualifies," said Garrus. On the other side of his console he heard a familiarly heavy sigh.

"Men, no matter the species you always make things about who has the bigger shotgun." **Tali'Zorah** poked her head up only to shake it at her Turian and Geth companion.

"We're not comparing the size of our shotguns," protested quickly Garrus.

"This unit does not use a shotgun nor does it have a gender." Legion stated plainly.

Tali just placed her hands on her hips and shook her head again before reaching back down into the access panel she had opened up on the floor. The mission through the Omega-4 Relay had been rough on the _Normandy's_ systems. Specifically the crash landing the ship had performed on the Collector station had caused strain and damage to the ship's structure. The SR1 would have had no problems, but since the SR2 was twice the size of its predecessor it was unsuited for ground landings. Among the systems to receive damage were the _Normandy's_ weapons.

The Javelin system had remained mostly intact except for a few dents along the tubing. The _Normandy's_ main gun however, the Thanix cannon, had not come out unscathed. The coils that kept up the electromagnetic field the weapon used to shape and accelerate a stream of superheated molten metal had been bent out of shape. Tali with the assistance of Garrus and Legion had spent the last six hours trying to realign the coils. Garrus focused on calibrations, as always, and Legion helped Tali with basically everything else.

When Legion had offered to also assist Garrus in calibrating, the Turian had taken it as a challenge to his abilities and boasted that despite Legion being a Geth, he was still the "undisputed chief of calibrations" on the _Normandy_. Tali rolled her eyes upon recalling the Garrus' words. It was a good thing he was handsome, for a Turian, because he certainly wasn't smooth with words.

"So now that we've established who's in charge of calibrations, do you mind if I ask you a question Legion?"

"Preparing exchange of data." That was the Geth platform's version of: _"go ahead"_.

"Now that the Collectors are dust, what are your plans? You staying on the _Normandy_?" The question immediately caught Tali's attention. Partly because she had been wondering the same about the rest of the crew and partly because Garrus was asking Legion.

A few moments passed in which Legion was silent, save for the whirring of machinery as the panels surrounding its eye moved thoughtfully. Finally it spoke. "This platform will continue to assist Shepard Commander."

Garrus raised a curious brow plate. "Really?"

"Yes. The Geth have reached the consensus that the Old Machines threaten the future of the Geth. Shepard Commander opposes the Old Machines. It is therefore logical that this platform remain to assist Shepard Commander."

The Turian nodded. "Can't argue with that. Turians won't have much of a future either if the Reapers have anything to say about it."

"Will you be staying as well Garrus Vakarian?" asked Legion.

"Of course, Alan is my friend. If he needs me to stick around then I will." The sureness in which Garrus spoke those words brought an uncontrollable smile to Tali's lips, one that for once made her thankful for the tinted visor of her suit.

"Creator Zorah is also Shepard Commander's friend. Will you also be staying aboard the _Normandy_?" asked Legion.

"It's like you said Legion: I'm Shepard's friend. I'd love to go back to the Migrant Fleet, but if the Reapers aren't taken care of there won't be a fleet for me to go back to. So yes, I'm staying with Shepard for as long as he needs me." Her answer seemed to placate the Geth which was a relief to Tali. She had meant everything she'd said, but she'd left out the fact that there was another reason for her wanting to stay. That reason was Legion itself.

Yes, it had agreed to the truce between the two of them. Yes, it had proven itself loyal to the team. Yes, it had kept its word about helping take down the Collectors. And yes, to Tali's own great surprise, she found she trusted the Geth platform to some degree.

But that didn't mean she was ready to just let it go wherever it wanted. Thousands of years of exile didn't get flushed out an airlock over night.

* * *

"EDI! Let me into the armory!" bellowed **Urdnot Grunt** , the _Normandy's_ resident teenage Krogan super soldier.

" _Mr. Taylor has asked that the armory be closed for the time being."_

"But my shotgun is in there!"

" _Mr. Taylor has asked that the armory be closed for the time being."_

"You said that already!"

" _I am unable to override the armory's lockdown unless ordered to by Commander Shepard or ."_

"I just want my damn shotgun!"

"Alright, what the hell is going on?" asked Alan as he walked up to the armory door beside Grunt, just as the Krogan was preparing to attack the door with his fists.

"Battlemaster! The ship has rebelled! It refuses to allow me access into the armory so that I can get my shotgun!"

Alan pinched the bridge of his nose. Dealing with Grunt was kind of like dealing with a ten year old kid. A one ton seven foot tall kid who knew how to handle deadly weapons, but a kid nonetheless. So when EDI informed him that there was a situation was developing on the CIC deck, he had hoped Grunt would be down in the hanger minding his own business as usual. Clearly those hopes had been unrealistic.

"Alright, EDI why is the armory locked?"

" _Mr. Taylor has asked that the armory be closed for the time being."_

"Stop saying that!" roared Grunt, "I can go wherever I like and no door is going to keep me from my shotgun! Battlemaster, let me tear down that door!"

Alan gave the idea a thoughtful pause. "…No."

"But it's keeping me from my SHOTGUN!"

Suddenly the door to the armory slid open, revealing Jacob to be standing on the other side holding Grunt's Claymore shotgun.

"I believe you are looking for this," Jacob held out the weapon to Grunt, who happily took it from the human.

While the Krogan celebrated reuniting with his weapon, Alan took note of several oddities about his armory chief. One, the man was naked from the waist up. Two, he was also out of breath and very sweaty. Three, the belt holding up his pants were a bit wider than usual, meaning he had thrown them on in a hurry. Alan was now curious to know what Jacob had been getting up to behind close doors.

"Jacob, are you exercising in there?" he asked simply.

"Uh…well…" It was a well-known fact that Jacob occasionally used the armory as an exercise room. It would explain why the armory chief had his shirt off and why he was so sweaty, but not why the door had been locked. As far as Alan knew, Jacob didn't mind if someone walked into the armory while he was doing some crunches.

A girlish giggle from inside however answered Alan's question. Jacob nervously realized that the cat was out of the bag and tried to discern the reactions of the Commander and the Krogan. Grunt was mercifully still focused on making sure every part of his shotgun was just the way he'd left it. Shepard on the other hand was growing a sly smile on his lips.

"Is **Kasumi** in there?" asked Alan, just barely keeping the smugness he felt out of his voice.

Jacob hesitated, but then nodded. No use trying to hide it now. "Yes sir, it is."

"Why does the thief get to access the armory?" Grunt asked innocently.

"Grunt, I think we should leave Kasumi and Jacob to their…exercise. How about you and I have a chat down the hall."

The tank born Krogan blinked silently several times. Then shrugged and said, "Okay. But what about the armory?"

Alan turned back to Jacob. "How long will you two be…exercising?"

Jacob furrowed his brows thoughtfully. "Uh…maybe…"

"Two hours!" Kasumi shouted from inside the room.

Jacob nodded in agreement. "Two hours Commander."

"Two hours it is then. Come on Grunt, let's go have that talk."

As Shepard led the still confused Krogan away, Jacob closed the door and returned inside the armory.

* * *

Usually the sole occupant of the _Normandy's_ starboard observation deck was the Asari Justicar: **Samara** , who spent most of her free time meditating on the day's events. Today however, she did not meditate alone. Next to her, sitting in the same cross-legged position, was **Thane Krios**.

And on the couch behind them, **Jack** lay sprawled out on her back, bored out of her mind. Hoping to get a rise out of one of the aliens, Jack let out a noisy groan.

Nothing.

Not even a twitch to show that they had heard her.

It pissed Jack off.

As far as occupations went, Thane and Samara were near opposites. Samara as a Justicar used her powers to uphold Asari law. Thane as an assassin had used his skills in the past to kill for money. But in terms of spirituality the two of them were quite similar. Samara's order was founded on the principals of her people's faith to their Goddess: Athame. Every criminal she executed she did so with the hope that her Goddess would show the wayward souls mercy. Likewise, Thane always found comfort in the gods of his people. When he killed he prayed to Amonkira, god of hunters, for his aim to be true. When the deed was done Thane would pray to Kalahira, mistress of the afterlife, so that his deeds might be forgiven.

Jack figured it was only natural that they find a sort of mutual enjoyment in each others presence. They weren't fucking, Jack was pretty sure about that. Samara was practically married to her precious Code and Thane was still in love with his late wife. They were...friends, Jack nodded firmly, just friends. That was too bad, in Jack's opinion. Both had that badass sexy vibe going for them and both like to show off their cleavage/chest, if they weren't both tied to something else they would have made for one sexy couple.

The bald woman mentally shook herself. _Jesus-fuckin-Christ, since when did I become a fucking shipper?_

Rolling onto her side, Jack observed the two aliens. Jack was only here because she hadn't believed that anyone could sit still for as long as they had. But for the last hour neither of them had even lifted a finger to scratch an itch. How was that even possible? Those skin tight getups probably chaffed like a motherfucker.

Maybe if she got a bucket of water or something and tossed it on them they would finally move. Jack's lips curled at the thought of the two stoic aliens sputtering and slipping on the floor, probably shouting curses at her. Jack almost burst out laughing at the thought.

As if sensing her intent, Thane spoke for the first time since he and Samara had begun their meditation. "If you are truly _that_ bored Jack, you are welcome to join us."

Jack nearly leapt out of what little clothing she wore. Jesus, how did they do that weird mind reading thing? "Yeah, I don't think it's for me. You've met me right? Sitting like that will probably drive me fuckin crazy."

"I think you would benefit from learning meditation Jack," said Samara, her voice smooth and icy as always. "Meditation is useful for reflection, it helps heal one's soul and calms the mind."

Jack sat up and crossed her arms. "Somehow I don't see a few hours of sitting around getting rid of ten years of being a fucked up genocidal bitch."

"How will you know if you never try?" asked Samara.

"I just do," Jack replied immediately. "There ain't no fixing me. What's fucked up in my head is gonna stay fucked up. Blowing up that Ceberus station might have helped me feel better, but blowing shit up usually does. Sitting on my ass, cross my legs, and thinking about shit is just gonna put my legs to sleep."

After that neither alien said anything, leaving Jack feeling a little awkward. That had come out a bit harsher than she had intended.

Jack's face scrunched up in disgust. Since when the fuck had she cared about how others felt? So what if their feelings were hurt? Fuck'em, the galaxy wasn't a nice place and getting your feelings hurt was a hell of a lot better than getting shanked in an alley or gang raped in a prison shower.

More silence passed between the three until Jack spoke up again.

"What the fuck are you two even meditating about anyway?" she asked.

Samara answered first. "I am reflecting upon our mission to the Collector station."

"As am I," said Thane.

"What about it?" asked Jack.

"It is good that the Commander chose to destroy the Collector's homeworld. Their work was a great evil and needed to be purged from the galaxy. But with their destruction, the curtain has fallen, revealing the puppeteer pulling the strings."

"Uh...you mean the Reapers?"

"Yes. My oath to Shepard was that I would follow him until the Collectors were destroyed and his mission completed. I am now relieved of my oath to him. But I now find myself at a crossroads."

"A what?"

"An indecision," Thane clarified.

"Okay, about what?"

The Asari Justicar took a small breath before continuing. "I am a Justicar, I serve the will of my Goddess and the Code of my order. According to the Code, I should return to the duties after having fulfilled my oath to Shepard. But I am...hesitant to do so. The threat of the Reapers cannot be ignored."

"So you want to go back to doing your Justicar thing, but you feel like you can't because you know the Reapers are coming," Jack summarized.

"Yes. But my conscious is clear, and I will renew my oath to Shepard until the threat of the Reapers is no more."

Jack then turned to Thane. "And what about you?"

"I too find myself indecisive," said the Drell. "I had not expected to survive the Commander's mission. But now that I have, I find myself wanting to see Kolyat."

"You're son."

"Yes," Thane nodded, "but with the threat of the Reapers closing in, I feel that there is no time. It pains me to do so, but I believe that I must remain away from my son in order to protect him, just as I did in the past. His hatred of me might grow, but it will be a small price to pay for his safety."

Jack lay back on the couch, exhausted from listening to the two aliens. "Shit, those big robot squid fuckers aren't even here and they're already causing us problems."

"And what of you Jack?" asked Samara.

"What about me?"

"Have you chosen to move on? Or will you stay with Shepard?"

"I'm staying," Jack said casually. Silence followed in which Jack felt like the two aliens were expecting her to say more. When she did not, they continued their questioning.

"It seems that it was a simple decision for you," said Thane.

Jack shrugged. "Hey, free food, free bunk, free guns, free extranet access, what's there not to stick around for? Besides, it's not like I've got anything better to do."

* * *

"So...they were breeding?"

Alan paused before responding. "...yeah."

"In the armory?"

"...yeah."

Grunt scratched his plate in confusion. "I got a few breeding requests after we went through the ritual. But the voices never talked about how Krogan mating was done so I'm not sure how it's done. Do females like the presence of weapons when they mate?"

Alan stared at the ground. This was without a shadow of a doubt, the most awkward conversation he'd ever had with anyone. He'd always wanted children and he'd always known that he'd have to explain to those children one day how babies were made. But he never thought that his first time giving **"the talk"** would be with a teenage Krogan.

"Some human women do, I'm not so sure about Krogan women," admitted Alan. "I'm not expert an expert on Krogan women..." A proverbial light bulb suddenly activated in his mind. "...but I'll bet that **Mordin** knows quite a bit. Why don't you go ask him?"

A few minute later, having been dropped off by Shepard, Grunt found himself watching a video of two Krogan mating clumsily to some sort of strange electronic music. The video itself had come from an extranet site called: _FornaxHub_.

"This is weird," Grunt stated plainly.

"Aversion to sexual content normal. Adolescents feel revulsion towards biological mating until hormones begin to produce. Likely late bloomer due to Okeer's interference. Suggest continued study strictly for research purposes."

"Why does he keep slapping her rear?"

"Likely personal sexual preference."

"You mean there's more than one way to do it?" Grunt sighed at the thought of having to do more research, he'd much rather go out and kill something. "Do you have any more recommended vids? I'm not sure I'll be able to find anymore when you're gone."

"Gone? Assuming I am leaving ship. Could not be further from truth. Fully intend to stay aboard _Normandy_ and provide scientific expertise. Am now leading expert on Collectors and Reapers. Shepard most likely need my help in the near future. Plus most enjoyable assignment I've had in a while. Will also need to stay on board to monitor you. Have never gotten a chance to study Krogan maturation process, observation should be very..." Mordin paused to take in a deep breath, "...informative."

Grunt blinked twice. "I didn't think you were gonna leave. No self respecting Krantt stops following their Battle Master. I just don't want to watch any more of these with you."

* * *

After dropping Grunt off with Mordin, Alan returned to his quarters. As he sat down at his desk, Alan's eyes drifted to the framed picture sitting next to his personal terminal. It was of a woman, tanned skin, glossy lips, and dark hair tied into a tight bun in order to keep with military regulations. Years ago Ashley Williams, the woman in the photo, had served with Shepard aboard the _Normandy SR1_. Together they had fought the Geth, saved the Citadel, and defeated the rogue Spectre: Saren Arterius.

During their mission Alan and Ashley had gotten close. He still remembered the night they had spent together in his quarters before their mission to Ilos. Conversely, their reunion on the planet Horizion had been cold.

When he had wrapped his arms around her, it felt like the galaxy made sense again when she had returned his embrace. But then she had pushed him away and accused him of betraying the Alliance. He had tried to explain why he had been working with Cerberus, pointed out that Garrus was with him, and even tried to get her to come along. After all, he still loved her.

But she had said no.

It had broken Alan's heart to hear those words.

With the Collectors defeated he was tempted to find Ashley and try to explain things to her again. But part of him still feared the rejection he'd faced on Horizon. If he was going to show her that he wasn't with Cerberus anymore, he'd need to do something big.

A chime broke his attention on the picture.

"Enter," he said aloud and the room's VI opened the door.

"Commander," Miranda greeted him with a curt nod.

"Miranda," Alan returned the woman's nod. "What can I do for you?"

"I was hoping to talk to you about this 'plan' of yours, before we reach Illium."

Alan's lips curled into a frown. "Miranda, we've already talked about this. Nothing you say is going to change my mind."

"But Alan, surrendering to the Alliance? Why don't you just hand the galaxy to Reapers on a silver platter."

"You know its the right move. If we're going to have any chance of stopping the Reapers we need to have everyone on board, that includes the Alliance. I need to convince them to prepare, but I'm not going to be able to do that if they think I'm still associated with a terrorist organization like Cerberus."

Miranda shook her head. "What even makes you think they'll give you the time of day? Even if they exonerate you, there is still a chance that they'll call you crazy and ignore any warnings you give."

"I still have some friends in the brass, Anderson and Hackett for starters. They'll listen to me. In the mean time everyone else will work on getting the other Citadel species to start making preparations."

Miranda crossed her arms. "Some how I doubt things will be that simple. Garrus might have a chance since his father is a high ranking general in the Hierarchy, but the others don't exactly have a lot of clout."

"It doesn't have to be big stuff. They can start small and work up from there."

"Small isn't going to stop the Reapers," Miranda shot back.

"We're not going to finish preparations over night," Alan said sternly.

Miranda sighed heavily. "Just tell me the truth," she said, "does Lieutenant Williams have anything to do with your decision?"

At that, Alan was silent, which was all the answer that Miranda needed.

"I thought so," she said. "I can't stop your from doing this Alan, and I hope it works out like you say it will. But don't risk the best chance this galaxy has for a woman."

With that Miranda snapped a salute and made a quick exit through the door, leaving Alan alone with his thoughts.

* * *

 **Illium**

After his talk with Miranda, the rest of the trip passed quickly as Alan poured over the details of his plan. But as he did, he noticed that more than once his thoughts traveled back to Ashley. It soon became apparent to him that there was some truth to his XO's words. Part of him was doing this to prove to Ashley that he was still the same man that he was years ago.

He stayed in his cabin trying to justify his choice until the _Normandy_ was docked in the spaceport and EDI announced their arrival over the ship intercom. That meant it was time for Alan to exchange his mentally exhausting task with an emotionally draining one: saying good bye to friends.

"Are you sure I can't say anything to change your mind?" he asked hopefully.

The slim Asian woman wearing a formfitting hooded cat suit shook her head regretfully. "Sorry Taicho. I hate to leave, it feels like I'm abandoning you all. But like I said before, I'm not a soldier, I'm a thief. Going on suicide missions on a regular basis isn't something I'm up for."

Alan nodded understandingly. With the exception of Kasumi and a few of the former Cerberus crew, everyone had deigned to stay aboard the _Normandy_. For Alan their departure was a mixture of relief and sadness. On one hand it made it easier to go forward with his plan of surrendering to the Alliance if the crew decided to leave of their own free will. On the other hand, it showed him just how taxing this fight was going to be.

Alan didn't blame Kasumi or the others for wanting to leave. Everyone had a limit to what they were willing to do and today, they had found theirs. That was okay, not everybody was up to the kind of life Alan lived. It didn't mean they were cowards it just meant that they were, for lack of a better term, human.

"I'll miss you," he said, holding out a hand.

Kasumi rushed passed the hand and enveloped Alan in a crushing hug that belied the small woman's size.

"Good luck out there Shep, give the Reapers a black eye for me, okay?"

Alan wrapped his arms around her. "Okay," he said.

Kasumi finally released the Commander from the hug and then turned to the man standing next to him. Jacob sheepishly looked to the floor and scratched the back of his head, which made Kasumi smile.

"I...guess I'll see you around," Jacob finally said.

"Yeah, I guess I will," Kasumi coyly.

The thief then stood on her tip toes and planted a small peck on the large man's lips. She was about to turn to finally leave, when something behind the two men caught her eye. Alan heard the footsteps and turned to see Kelly Chambers carrying a duffle bag with a solemn look on her face.

"Kelly?"

"Oh! Hey Commander..I..." The Yeoman's eyes drifted to the floor in shame.

"It's okay Kelly, I understand," he assured her.

The redhead's eyes lit up a bit at that. "Thank you Shepard. I want to stay, I really do. I just...I can't stay on the _Normandy_ any longer."

Alan nodded and held out a hand to her. "I wish you the best of luck."

Like Kasumi before her, Kelly forwent the handshake in favor of wrapping the Commander in a tight hug. She then saluted Jacob, who returned the salute crisply.

"Mind if I tag along Kasumi?"

The Japanese woman smiled beneath her hood and beckoned to the former Yeoman. "Come on girlfriend! Let's get you something new to wear!"

Together the two women walked down the ramp of the _Normandy_ and into the city of Nos Astra. When they disappeared from view, Alan turned his attention to Jacob.

"I guess I'll see you around? Really?" he chuckled teasingly.

"I told you I'm not very good at this," said Jacob.

"That's not what the bridge crew tell me, apparently the _Normandy's_ walls aren't as soundproof as we've been led to believe."

At that moment Jacob was thankful for his dark complexion, without which his blush would have been very apparent.

"Please tell me you at least got her number."

Jacob flashed his perfectly white teeth and held out his Omni-tool.

"I'm not that hopeless."

* * *

 **Tuchanka**

"So, have you seen the new weapons the Chieftain is handing out," asked Tarn of Clan Ket'nar

"I have," said his Clan brother, Gran. "I can't wait to see what they do to the Turians when we finally invade Palavan. The revenge of our people has been a long time coming."

"It certainly has," agreed Tarn.

As the guards of Tuchanka's only working long range communications array, Tarn and Gran had little to do besides talk to one another and shoot at the occasional stray pyjak. Being that this communications array was one of the few secrets Clan Udrnot had managed to keep secret from the Council, the two of them were the only guards in place so as to not attract attention.

That meant that the two brothers spent most of guard duty incredibly bored. It was that boredom that left them lazy and unprepared when suddenly a massive form dropped down on top of them.

Caught off guard, Tarn took a strike to the throat that had him gurgling for air. Gran yelped in surprise and quickly went for his shotgun only to fumble with it horribly. That left him wide open to a kick in the quad, followed by a biotically empowered headbutt that shattered his crest and mulched the soft brain beneath.

Tarn, still struggling for air, attempted to reach for his own weapon only to take a shotgun blast that turned his face into red paste.

With the two guards taken care of, the intruder broke the lock on the door with his bare hands and got to work preparing his message.

"Come on, come on, pick up Shepard!"

* * *

After saying goodbye to Kasumi, Kelly, and the others who had decided to leave, Alan found himself in the awkward position of trying to figure out how to tell the rest of the crew that soon they would have to leave as well. At first, Alan tried to avoid the problem altogether by overseeing restocking of the _Normandy's_ supplies and refueling. Unfortunately the workers in Nos Astra spaceport were very efficient and within an hour both tasks were done.

Alan then tried to contact Liara, to catch up and see how she was doing, also to get her advice on how to do this. No luck, her assistant informed Alan that Liara was out of the office and wouldn't be back for some time. And so it was back to figuring out how to explain his plan to the others. He was thankfully saved from this particular problem when Joker contacted him via ship com.

" _Commander"_ Joker's voice suddenly blared over the ship COM, cutting her off, _"sorry to interrupt you from whatever it is your doing, but there's a call for you from Wrex, says it's urgent!"_

Wrex? Alan leaned against the rail of the galaxy map. He hadn't heard from his Krogan friend on Tuchanka since Grunt's trial, over a month ago.

The Krogan, now chieftain of Clan Urdnot, one of Shepard's best friends. Like Ashley, Wrex had been with Alan during his mission to take down Saren and had been present during the Battle of the Citadel. Wrex was also one of the toughest sons of bitches in the entire galaxy. Stronger than most Krogan and with biotics that were as strong as Alan's own, if he said something was urgent then Alan knew it was the real deal.

"Patch it through Joker!" A few tense moments passed until a burst of static indicated the transmission had made it through.

" _Shepard?!"_ spoke the familiar grizzled deep voice of the Krogan.

"Wrex! Is that you?" asked Alan.

" _Yeah it's me! Look, I don't have a lot of time, they're closing in!"_ The Krogan Chieftain sounded frantic, not something Alan had ever heard before.

"Closing in? Who? Are you in trouble?"

" _Yeah! More than usual too!"_ a burst of static, _"-don't how he did it-"_

More static cut off Wrex, but Alan managed to catch what sounded like gunfire in the background.

"Wrex?! Wrex?! What's happening? How who did what?"

Wrex's voice came back, _"-but it was fast!"_

"Wrex your signal is breaking up! What's going on?"

" _No time! Get your ass to Tuchanka! You're my only-"_ the signal went dead.

"Wrex!" Alan's knuckles went white as he squeezed the railing.

" _Sorry Commander"_ said Joker over the COM, _"signal's gone, orders?"_

"Get us to Tuchanka, now!"

" _Aye aye sir! ETA to homeworld of the giant lizard people is one hour!"_

Alan nodded. "EDI!"

 _"Yes Commander?"_

"Tell the team to suit up! We've got a new mission!"

* * *

Upon exiting the Aralakh Mass Relay and entering the Krogan DMZ, the _Normandy_ was forced to check in with the Citadel sanctioned checkpoint. Going to Tuchanka usually took an hour of paperwork and background checks to make sure smugglers and other undesirables didn't enter the DMZ. Thankfully Commander Shepard was a Spectre, which pretty much gave him a pass to do whatever he wanted. Upon passing the checkpoint station, he simply flashed his credentials the _Normandy_ was allowed passage to enter.

"Spectre credentials authenticated," said the flanged voice of a Turian over the ship-to-ship COM, _"enjoy your time in the DMZ, if that's even possible."_

As soon as the line was cut, Joker immediately spoke his mind, "don't you just love racist spaceport security?"

"They're just doing their jobs," Shepard reminded the pilot.

"Yeah I know, it's still annoying though."

"Just focus on getting us to Tuchanka Joker."

"No need, we'll be there in t-minus 5 minutes."

"Good. Hold course, I'm going to go get the team ready," as he walked through the CIC, Alan ran into Miranda who was standing over the galaxy map.

"Commander."

"XO Lawson, it goes without saying, you have the conn until I return from Tuchanka."

"Of course Commander, good luck."

From the CIC Alan took the elevator down to the _Normandy's_ shuttle hangar where the entire team had already geared up. Alan himself had already donned his gray N7 armor, complete with red and white stripe, and picked out his weapons. As a graduate of the Alliance's Vanguard program, Alan used biotics a lot in combat. But he also equally relied on his guns to deal out death.

Like most marines, Alan carried an assault rifle and side arm. His assault rifle was a Cerberus **Harrier** rifle with an extended barrel and superior kinetic coils. There were a lot of things that Alan hated about Cerberus, but damn did they know how to make a good rifle. The sidearm he had attached to the thigh of his armor was the **Carnifex** he had carried during his time hunting Saren. Upon waking up from the dead it had been the first weapon Alan had picked up.

As a CQC specialist, a shotgun was probably the most important part of Alan's arsenal. He had used many different models over his career as a soldier, but today he carried his personal favorite: the **N7 Crusader**. Used by many of the Alliance's special forces for being a high quality weapon, Alan's personal Crusader was customized with an improved thermal system for more shots per clip, selective firing options, and advanced kinetic coils to provide each shot an extra kick.

Unlike most graduates of the Vanguard program, Alan also carried a sniper rifle with him into combat. His reasoning being that as an N7 he needed to be prepared for all situation and that included the possibility of not being able to engage the enemy at close range. While not as accomplished a sniper as Garrus, Thane, or even Ashley, Alan was still a crackshot and his **M-29 Incisor** was lightweight enough to not burden him with extra weight.

"Alright everyone, gather around!" he announced, voice echoing throughout the hanger.

With the exception of Miranda, whom was in charge of the ship while Alan was gone, and Tali, who was still recovering from infections acquired during the Collector assault, the whole team had assembled in the hanger. They formed a semi-circle around their commander awaited his words.

"This mission we're going on isn't as dangerous as the trip through the Omega-4 relay, but it is important. About an hour ago my friend Wrex, whom some of you might remember, called me for some help." The mention of his adoptive clan's chieftain seemed to catch Grunt's attention in particular "We're not sure what's going on, but you can be sure that when Urdnot Wrex calls for help it's something serious."

"Not like him to need rescue, must be getting soft sitting on his throne," commented Garrus. Though it sounded like a jab at Wrex, Alan knew Garrus was just as worried about the Krogan as he was. Though they had been cautious of one another at the start, the two had eventually come to have a mutual respect for one another.

"Since we don't know what we're in for we'll be playing this one safe. There will be 3 teams for this mission. Team One will consist of myself, Grunt, Jack, and Zaeed. We'll be the ones going in through the front door."

"Hehehehehe," Grunt chuckled and slammed his fists together.

"Fuckin A" said Jack.

Alan continued. "Team Two will be sniper support. Garrus," he turned to the Turian, "you'll lead Team Two with Thane and Legion."

Garrus nodded and tweaked the scope on his Mantis rifle. "Copy that Commander."

"Team Three will be back up, that'll be Jacob, Mordin, and Samara. You'll mostly stay with the shuttle to protect it from potential hijackers or if we need backup. Jacob, you're in charge."

The large man, who was wearing a suit of black heavy Cerberus Assault armor, racked the slide of his own Harrier rifle and nodded. "Yes sir!"

"Okay here's the plan." Alan activated his Omni-tool which began projecting a holographic map of the Urdnot camp. "We'll be going down to Tuchanka via shuttle, Team One and Team Three will be in the first Kodiak piloted by Flight Officer Patel, so we'll be in good hands."

Flight Officer Patel, a woman of Indian descent who was the only none ground combatant present, snapped a salute. "Thank you sir!"

"We'll be landing at the same LZ we used when last we were here. Team Two however will be taking the _Normandy's_ spare Kodiak and landing here." A red dot formed where Alan pointed. "You'll be going in quietly and covering us from tops of the ruined buildings. Who keeps an eye on what will be up to Garrus, feel free to have your crosshairs on potential hostiles but do not fire until I give the word. Any questions?"

None.

"Alright everyone, let's get it done!"

* * *

"Approaching the LZ now Commander," said Flight Officer Rana Patel over the Kodiak's intercom.

The Commander stuck his head in the cockpit. "Any sign of trouble?"

"Sensors aren't picking any weapons locks, just a lot of dust and stray debris," replied Patel, "pretty much the same as when we first landed."

Shepard nodded. "Understood, keep the engines warm just in case," he ordered.

The interior light switched from red to green, signaling that it was safe to disembark. Alan slid the door open and jumped out onto the hard concrete ground. He was soon followed by the rest of the Team One and then Team Three. The Commander took a moment to scan the surrounding area and found nothing that would indicate any sort of danger, but that usually just meant that he had to look a bit closer.

But for the most part Patel's words held true, their landing zone had not changed much from their previous visit to the planet. He even spotted the same Krogan guards standing at attention at the edge of the landing zone, their eyes attentively set upon the strangers and the shuttle. Still, Shepard felt as though something were off. It was the same gut feeling that had saved him many times before.

Alan turned to Jacob. "Stay on guard, I've got the feeling something's not right around here."

The tall man gave a confirming nod. "Rules of engagement?"

"Don't fire until fired upon. We don't want to start any unnecessary trouble."

"Copy that commander, good luck out there."

"Let's move out," Alan said to his team. Together the three humans and one Krogan moved towards the guards. The two Krogan guards obviously recognized Shepard as both gave nods of respect. When it came to Grunt, the guards beat their chests in welcome to a fellow member of Clan Urdnot.

Grunt of course returned the gesture.

"Like a pack of goddamn gorillas," muttered Zaeed as he chewed on his cigar.

Jack snickered. "Good one," she said.

As they cautiously traveled the same route to Wrex's throne, Alan received a transmission from Garrus. _"Team One, this is Team Two. We've made landfall. Legion is moving to cover the LZ, Than and I are currently moving into cover position. ETA should be five minutes. Over"_

"Roger Team Two," Alan whispered into his COM bead, "We're currently on route to Wrex's throne room. Give a shout when you gain visual. Over"

Upon arriving at the crater that passed as Clan Urdnot's throne room, Shepard and his team were greeted with an unfamiliar sight, one that immediately filled Alan simultaneously with dread and anger. The Krogan sitting on the throne of Urdnot, was **NOT** Wrex.

Alan was immediately on edge though he did well to hide it. To his side he saw that Grunt had noticed as well and was already holding his Claymore Shotgun tightly. The human signaled for the Krogan to stand down, to which Grunt obliged reluctantly. As he continued his approach to the throne Shepard took a moment to get a good look at the Krogan sitting on it.

Though all Krogan looked quite similar, this one in particular bore a striking similarity to Wrex. Could they be related? He was just as large and muscular as Wrex, he also had the same blood red eyes that, till now, Alan had believed Wrex was the only Krogan to possess. The biggest difference was that this Krogan's crest was a sage green, Wrex's crest was red, and he did not posses the familiar facial scars.

When they began to ascend up the stairs, two heavily armed Krogan moved to block their path.

"Hold," one of them held out a massive hand.

"We are here to see your Chieftain, Urdnot Wrex."

"Urdnot Wrex is not longer Chieftain of this Clan," the Krogan atop the throne bellowed, his voice a deep and menacing baritone.

The two guards looked to him for orders. He signaled for them to allow the outsiders to pass, which they did. Upon reaching the throne, the Krogan stood from his seat and towered over Shepard and his team.

"I am Urdnot Wreav, the new Chieftain of Clan Urdnot," the Krogan declared.

"New Chieftain?" this time Shepard could not hide his surprise, "I was here a month ago and Wrex was the Chieftain then, what happened?"

Wreav sauntered down to Shepard's level and revealed himself easily be eight feet tall. He stared down at Alan like one would an insect. His already large nostrils flared as he took a large whiff of the human before him.

"You...are Commander Shepard," he realized flatly.

"I am," Alan crossed his arms.

"Wrex held you in very high esteem." The Krogan began to casually circle the team like a predator, "I'm not quite sure why, you seem like all the other humans. Puny and weak."

Shepard wasn't a man who was easily slighted, but something about this Krogan rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was the way Wreav looked at him, like he was nothing more than meat. Maybe it was the fact that he was indirectly insulting Wrex. Or Maybe he just really wanted to know what the hell this Krogan was doing on his friend's throne!

"Where is Wrex?" Shepard asked tersely. Unintentionally his entire body began to glow a deep blue as his biotic nodes responded to the adrenaline produced by his intensifying emotions.

"Hmph, biotic, should've known." Wreav returned to his seat on the throne, "Wrex was a biotic too. That's why he remained unchallenged for so long, that is, till I came along."

That gained Shepard's immediate attention.

"Your friend Wrex is no longer Chieftain because I took the position from him."

"And how did you do that?" Alan asked, though he had already guessed the answer.

"The Krogan way," Wreav said simply.

Shepard knew exactly what that meant.

"You killed him."

"And then took his place as Chieftain," confirmed Wreav. He saw the anger broiling beneath Shepard's deep green eyes. "It is the Krogan way," he said again.

The Commander's hand twitched. It begged to be used, to grab the Crusader shotgun mag-locked to his back and shoot Wreav right in the face or to pulp his brain with a biotically empowered punch.

 _"I've got a shot on Wreav"_ he heard Garrus announce over the COM.

It was tempting to let Garrus take the shot, but common sense overrode anger. They were surrounded by a dozen of the Chieftain's guards, and while they could certainly take that number on the political backlash of attacking the Krogan, though they were no longer officially a member of the Citadel, was not something Alan wanted. Like it or not, Wreav was basically in charge of Tuchanka right now and Tuchanka's support would be needed when the Reapers arrived.

"We're leaving," he finally said.

"Battlemaster, should we not-" Grunt was cut off by the Warchief.

"You there, tankborn!" Wreav bellowed.

"My name…" Grunt said, anger barely contained, "is Urdnot Grunt!"

"Not anymore," snorted Wreav, "Wrex may have tolerated a genetic experiment in the Clan, but I will not."

Grunt bared his teeth, "you exile me from the clan?!"

"And strip you of your title," added Wreav, a sneer developing on his scaly lips, "products of a test tube like you have no place among true Krogan.

Grunt roared and prepared to charge but Shepard suddenly stepped out in front and stopped him.

"Battlemaster! He…"

Without warning Shepard's biotic powers flashed to life and for a brief moment he was but a blue blur streaking towards Wreav, the next moment he had slammed into the Krogan **16** **00 Newtons** of kinetic force and sent the Chieftain flying back into his throne.

"Nobody talks to my crew that way!"

Jack and Zaeed drew their weapons, so did the Krogan guarding the room. Realizing what he had done but knowing that there was nothing to be done about it now, Shepard's mind went into over time as he took into account the opposition.

A dozen fully armored Krogan, shotguns and assault rifles, surrounding them in a circle. Another confirmed thirty Krogan guards he had seen on the way over, similarly armed and armored.

Bad odds for most people, but the crew of the _Normandy_ weren't most people.

"Big mistake Commander," said the none too pleased Chieftain from his throne. Two more guards came up to flank their leader and aim their weapons at the Alan, "Your legend dies here!"

With a simple twitch of his leg muscles, Alan biotically blurred back to his team who were now standing back to back.

Shepard shouted, "Jack! Barriers!"

Both biotics threw up their hands and together they created translucent blue dome around the team. The dozen Krogan guards opened fire a split second later. But just as it had held the swarms at bay in the Collector station, the biotic dome stood strong against the onslaught of rounds being poured onto it now. Alone both Jack and Alan could have only held a barrier under constant fire for at most ten minutes. Together they could hold out for twice that time.

Luckily they didn't need to.

"Keep up the fire!" ordered Wreav, who had pulled a shotgun out from behind his throne and joined his guards in firing on Team One, "they can't hold up those barriers forever!"

As he finished those words the deafening crack of a sniper rifle echoed throughout the Urdnot camp. Mere moments later one of the guards fell to the ground with a large gaping hole where one of his eyes had once been. A second crack followed immediately after which ended the life of the guard next to the first.

"Sniper!" realized one of the guards.

 _Crack! Crack! Crack!_ Another two Krogan hit the floor while a third screamed and held a hand to a bloody wound just below its crest. The remaining guards ceased fire on Team One, suddenly very wary of the unseen sniper duo that had just halved their numbers. Turning their attention away from Team One was the last mistake any of those guards made.

"Break!" yelled Alan.

Together he and Jack dropped the biotic dome and let Team One loose upon the Krogan.

Grunt was predictably the first one out. Without hesitation he tackled two of the guards to the ground and began a messy brawl of Krogan fists and crests. While his opponents were older and more experienced, Grunt had been created with the very best genetics his species had to offer. With a display of monstrous strength Grunt grabbed one of his victims and lifted all 800 pounds above his head, laughing as he did, and then dropped the guard down onto his knee with a disgusting crunch of breaking bone.

"Worthless maggots!" the tank-born howled as he finished the guard off via foot to the face. The second one, unwisely hesitated and paid for it when Grunt ploughed into him and began a brutally beatdown.

The rest of the team in the meantime had busied themselves with the four remaining guards and Wreav. Alan's eyes went straight to the warchief and guard next to him. Just like last time the Commander vanished into a blue biotic streak and slammed into his friend's usurper. Wreav was once again sent flying back as he was struck with the force of a speeding car.

"Chieftain!" the guard cried and turned his assault rifle on the human vanguard. In a whirl of practiced motion, Shepard whipped out his Carnifex and fired off two rounds. The Krogan screamed and fell, clutching his knees. Both wounds would have healed in an hour, but Shepard put an end to that possibility with an quick triple tap that stitched three holes in a neat triangle on the Krogan's forehead.

Alan turned to see that the last of the guard were being neatly finished off. Zaeed had apparently sawed one in half with his Revenant machine gun, Jack had reduced another to a mushy pulp by repeatedly slamming the Krogan into the ground with her biotics, and the third had lost both two gaping holes in its head courtesy of Team Two.

"Clear!" Zaeed announced.

"Clear!" said Grunt, who was now covered in the blood of his victim whose corpse he gave one last contemptuous kick.

"DIE HUMAN!" Wreav came leaping at Shepard like a wild animal, intent on crushing the human with the sheer weight of his body. Alan had just enough time to side step, allowing Wreav to crater the floor where he had just stood. The Krogan certainly had a quad of him, but he was no Wrex. With almost casual fluidity Shepard holstered his Carnifex and pulled out his Crusader shotgun.

Caught in a blood rage, Wreav charged head first at Alan. The vanguard calmly fired his shotgun twice and chieftain's right leg came off in a bloody spray. On the ground, Wreav was still frothing at the mouth about killing Shepard while desperately clawing his way towards the human. Alan found it kind of funny.

He put an end to Wreav's ranting by placing the barrel of his Crusader to the Krogan's crest, the chieftain immediately froze up. An old trick he had learned while trying to keep Grunt under control, Krogan were oddly sensitive about the hardest part of their bodies. Alan thought it akin to holding a human by the throat.

"You done?" Shepard asked. Wreav did not respond as the rest of Team One gathered around him.

"Battlemaster, why have you not mulched this pyjak?" asked Grunt.

"I've still got questions I want to ask him," explained Alan.

 _"Too bad I'm not down there. I make a mean bad cop,"_ Garrus commented over the COM.

"Keep an eye out for anyone looking to interrupt."

 _"Copy that."_

Assured that the area was now secure, Alan got to work on Wreav. Grabbing the Krogan by his ostentatious white armor Shepard lifted the Krogan, without his biotics, back onto Wrex's throne and then slapped a pair of flash-forged Omni-cuffs onto him. It sicken Alan to see Wreav sitting on what rightfully belonged to Wrex, but for now the throne would serve as a seat for interrogation.

"Where the hell is Wrex?" Alan demanded.

Wreav was silent.

Grunt growled menacingly. "Answer the question pyjak humper!"

Still no answer.

Zaeed unsheathed a knife from his boot and began cleaning his nails with it. "Looks like this'll get messy."

"Threaten me all you want whelps," Wreav finally said, "what you call torture is but a juvenile's game compared to the suffering my people are capable of inflicting on one another."

Before Alan could respond, Garrus' voice crackled over the COM again. _"Alan! We've got incoming!"_

The vanguard whipped around towards the entrance to see another dozen armed Urdnot guards rushing at them. Damn it, they did have time for this. The more time they were delayed from getting the truth out of Wreav was more time the chieftain could spend regenerating from his wounds. And though Alan hated to admit it, Wreav was right. You could stab a Krogan all day and he would do nothing more than chuckle.

Properly getting Wreav to spill the truth about Wrex was going to take time. Time they didn't have right now.

"Get ready!" said Alan as he switched out the Crusader for his Harrier.

As it turned out, he wasn't going to need it.

"SHEPAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRD!" bellowed a voice Alan immediately recognized.

A massive red form suddenly leaped down from the broken ceiling above, surrounded by a raging blue corona of biotic energy.

"Wrex?"

The red form blazing with blue fire fell forty feet and slammed onto the ground, right in the middle of the pack of Urdnot guards. All twelve Krogan were sent flying through the air, like tiny bugs being picked up by a powerful gust of wind, as the blue corona was discharged into a massive biotic explosion.

The whole camp shook, the entirety of Team One stumbled onto their knees, and through his comm-bead Alan heard Garrus indignantly sputtering something about falling down. When the blue light of the explosion finally died away Alan was able to look upon the aftermath.

The Krogan that been closest to the site of impact had all been reduced to blue burnt smears on the concrete floor. The others had died purely from the kinetic shockwave and were now scattered all over the throne room. Standing in the middle of all the carnage, wearing a shit-eating-grin, with a shotgun in one hand and a massive hammer glowing with biotic energy in the other, was **Urdnot Wrex**.

"Shepard!" Wrex jogged up towards the team, holding out his arms as though he had just returned from a pleasant stroll.

"Wrex!" Alan ran to meet his friend.

The true chieftain of Urdnot mag-locked his hammer onto his back and clasped hands with the human.

"My friend!" Wrex bellowed happily, "I knew you'd come!"

"And I knew that there was no way you could be dead," Alan replied with equal happiness.

"They gonna start making out?" Jack asked Zaeed quietly. The elderly mercenary just rolled his eye and gave the woman a light elbow jab to the side.

"You're supposed to be dead," Wreav growled angrily.

At the sound of his brother's voice, Wrex immediately lost all joviality. He marched up towards his throne, Team One parting for him like he was a mad thresher, walked right up to Wreav. Unexpectedly the usurper **stood up** , his foot having already grown back. Alan noted that it had only been a few minutes, Wreav's regenerative abilities must have been stronger than the average Krogan.

"You're supposed to be dead," Wreav said again.

Wrex's response was to headbutt his brother back into the throne and then follow up with three punches to the snout.

"You're a disgrace and a coward," spat Wrex.

"And you're a traitor to our entire race!" Wreav shot right back before spitting up a glob of blood into his brother's face. That earned him another punch to the snout.

"You didn't even have the quad to try and kill me yourself."

Wrex punched Wreav again.

"You will pay dearly for this Wrex," Wreav growled threateningly.

Wrex's answer was to punch his brother in the snout a third time and then grab him by the collar.

"Who was it!" demanded Wrex with a throaty roar, "who put you up to it? Clan Weryloc? The Salarians?!"

Wreave growled, "you're wasting your time...brother!" He spat out the word "brother" as though it were bile.

"Didn't Wreave overthrow you?" asked Shepard.

"Ha! This piece of shit couldn't overthrow me if he had another 1000 years! No, his soldiers had advanced weapons and armor, gear that you could never find on Tuchanka! He's got a benefactor!"

"You're wasting your time. It would be wise to kill me now," Wreav said unintimated.

Wrex headbutted Wreav again and then pulled out his Graal Spike Thrower, pressing it to the other Krogan's temple.

"Don't tempt me," he warned.

Wreave looked straight into the massive barrel of the gun and grinned.

"You have no idea what you're up against, either of you!" He looked at both Wrex and Shepard, "you're both already dead, it's just a matter of time!"

"Yeah, a lot of people tell me that and-" Shepard's words were cut off when the familiar crack of a sniper rifle cut him off and blood splattered over his face.

At first Alan thought that Garrus or Thane must have fired the shot. But then Wrex dropped Wreav and stumbled backwards.

"Shit!" Wrex turned around and revealed that his entire left arm had been blown off at the elbow. The part that had his hand was still gripping Wreav by the collar and squirting out blood.

"Sniper!" warned Zaeed.

"Barrier!" ordered Alan. Jack immediately responded and threw up her hands, creating a blue translucent dome around the Urdnot throne. Like all Krogan, Wrex had amazing regenerative capabilities, but a missing arm was going to take time to regrow. Till it did, Wrex was down one arm, a fact that Wreave immediately took advantage of.

Before anyone could respond, he leapt to his feet, broke his Omni-cuffs like they were made of paper, grabbed Wrex by the collar, and delivered a headbutt to his brother that had Wrex seeing stars. The usurper could have ended his relative then and there had Shepard not flung him into the air like a ragdoll with a quick biotic throw, and sent him crashing into a pile of rubble.

"Team Two! Do you have eyes on the sniper?"

 _"Damn it, negative! I've got nothing!"_ Garrus reported.

 _"I know where he is,"_ said Thane. A moment later Shepard heard another _crack_ echo through the air.

"Did you get him?"

 _"No, I think they saw me aiming at them and then moved. Whoever they are, they are most certainly not Krogan."_

"How can you tell?" Krogan snipers were rare but not unheard of.

 _"They were utilizing some sort of cloaking."_ Then Thane was right. No Krogan would ever utilize stealth technology.

"Think you can take them out?"

 _"Yes."_

"Alright, Thane go take out that sniper. Garrus, keep being our guardian angel."

 _"Roger that Commander,"_ said Garrus.

 _"May Amonkira guide your aim,"_ said Thane.

"Shep! We've got more fuckheads moving in!" warned Jack. True to the psychotic biotic's words, more of Wreave's forces had begun to stream into the room. But this time they were not just marching through the main entrance, Krogan were also dropping down from higher levels, and popping out of back entrances. Not good, this time they'd planned their assault.

At this point Wreav had also recovered and ran towards his followers, beating a hasty retreat out of the throne room. "Kill them all!" he ordered as he disappeared from view. His followers let out a thundering battle cry and charged.

"Take them out!" Shepard barked.

Zaeed slid into cover and immediately put down a layer of heavy suppressive fire with his Revenant. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted a Krogan trio entering the throne room. He unclipped an inferno grenade from his belt, primed the detonator, and tossed it right at the lead Krogan's feet.

"Look out!" The overgrown lizard managed to say before the grenade exploded and all three of the guards were consumed by fire.

Some of the guards recoiled from seeing their comrades turned into walking matches. Jack capitalized on their distraction and sent several different shockwaves rolling into their midst. All around the room squads of Krogan were scattered like bowling pins.

Jack pumped a fist into the air. "Strike motherfuckers!"

A survivor of her attack fired a wild burst from his assault rifle at her. The rounds were absorbed by Jack's barrier, but the act angered the biotic greatly.

"I'll teach you to shoot at me bitch!" Jack cast a powerful Slam and the Krogan was smeared into the concrete.

Grunt, unlike his much squishier comrades, stood proudly in the open and allowed his armor and shields to take hits while he perforated enemies with a never ending stream of bullets from his assault rifle.

"HAHAHAHAHA!" he cheered as another Krogan drowned beneath a hail of lead.

One of the Krogan managed to push through the storm of bullet and unload a round from his shotgun, close range, right into Grunt's side. The shot caused Grunt to stumble, but just barely. The tank-born turned on his attacker with a menacing growl. With adrenaline pumping through his veins, Grunt reached out with a single hand, grabbed the Krogan by the throat, and lifted him up into the air while still firing his assault rifle with his other hand.

"Weaklings! All of you! Give me a challenge!" Grunt demanded before slamming his victim into the ground and emptying the rest of the thermal clip into the guard's hide.

"I like that kid," Wrex said approvingly while Shepard dragged him into cover behind the Urdnot throne.

Throughout all of this the ever present sound of Garrus' sniper rifle continued to sound the death bell for any Krogan foolish enough to enter into his sights.

One of Wreav's supporters managed to slip by Team One and went straight for Shepard and Wrex. The first few rounds fired from the Krogan's oversized pistol bounced off Shepard's barrier and alerted him to the danger.

"Die human!"

Before the Krogan could squeeze the trigger again, Alan threw out a quick warp bolt. The missile of matter bending energy struck the sidearm and melted it into a droopy hunk of metal. Tossing the useless weapon aside, Wreav's support chose to simply beat the human to death. That turned out to be a very big mistake.

As the Krogan approached, Shepard was forced to drop his friend onto the floor in order to make use of both his hands. The attacking Krogan lashed out with a wild punch, one that Alan managed to catch and hold without his biotics. The Krogan's eyes widened in shock and his surprise cost him dearly as Shepard retaliated with a knife-handed strike to the Krogan's exposed throat.

Having been hit in one of the few soft spots on a Krogan's body, besides the quad, the guard choked and gurgled for air. Shepard grabbed the stunned Krogan by the wrist and then, with some difficulty, used an over the shoulder judo toss that put the Krogan flat on his back. Alan finished him off by putting a quick burst from his Harrier into the Krogan's head.

Wrex stared up at the human in amazement. "Shit Shepard, you been working out?"

"Cybernetic strength implants, some judo, and physics," explained Alan as he finished dragging Wrex behind the throne. Once in relative safety, Shepard took a better look at his friend's wound. "You alright?" he asked.

"I'm fine!" assured the Krogan as he nursed his wound.

"That looks pretty bad."

"Don't worry, it'll grow back."

" _Shepard! Come in!"_ said Jacob's voice in the Commander's ear.

"Jacob! This is Shepard, what's your status?"

" _Shepard! Team Three is under fire at the LZ! The Krogan are attacking! You have to get out of there!"_

"Kind of figured that out myself Jacob," he replied as a bullet whizzed dangerously above his head.

"We've got to get out of here!" said Wrex, "if I know Wreave, and I do, he'll have anti-air up and running within the next ten minutes!"

Alan looked at Wrex with bewildered skepticism. "Since when is Tuchanka allowed to have anti-air defenses?"

"Since Wreav decided he didn't give a fuck about the Council's laws!"

"Shit!" Alan hadn't been counting on anti-air, the whole planet was supposed to be free of any large scale military weapons. This could complicate things. Shepard pressed a finger to his comm-bead, "Jacob, tell Patel to get ready for take off! Be advised, potential AA threat on the ground. We'll be getting out of here in a hurry!"

" _AA? Shit_ , r _oger that!"_ An explosion and burst of static temporarily disrupted the signal _, "We'll hold them off for as long as we can! Team Three out!"_

Alan then switched to Team Two's frequency. "Garrus! We're moving out, get back to your shuttle!"

 _"Copy that Shepard, see you back on the Normandy."_

"Thane, do you copy? Did you take care of that sniper?"

 _"Negative, I chased him further into the compound and he led me into a trap. I had to fight a squad of Krogan and haven't been able to pick up the trail since."_

"Damn," Alan cursed. That meant there would still the danger of a sniper looming over them as they made their way back. Worse, it was a sniper that had managed to outwit Thane, which showed that this particular sharpshooter was also intelligent. "Forget about him for now, meet up with Garrus and get back the _Normandy_ , understood?"

 _"Understood."_ The transmission cut.

"Can you move?" The Commander asked Wrex.

"Ha! Who do you think you're talking to?!"

"Good point," Shepard smiled despite the situation and offered a hand to his friend. Wrex graciously accepted and allowed Alan to help him stand. By then the Krogan attackers had called a retreat and were falling back to plan their next attack.

"Alright everyone we're leaving! Form up! Grunt! Take point!"

"Heheh! The fun job!" The Krogan all but skipped to the front of the line.

"Zaeed, you bring up the rear. If anyone follows…"

"I'll fill them full of holes," finished Zaeed as he slapped a fresh thermal clip into his Revenant.

"Wrex, you stay in the center near Jack."

Both Krogan and biotic frowned.

"Ugh, babysitting," grumbled Jack.

"To hell with that!" said Wrex, "this is just a flesh wound!" he held out the stump that was once his arm, "I can still shoot shit just as good as-"

"This isn't up for debate," Alan growled sternly, "like it or not Wrex, you are the mission's VIP and you're missing an arm. So you're staying next to Jack who is going to make sure you don't get taken out by that sniper. Understood?"

Wrex grumbled something under his breath but gave a nod. "Fine."

"Alright let's move-"

 **"SHEPARD!"** the voice of Wreav suddenly boomed through the air. Team One raised their weapons to search for the usurping Krogan, only to be informed by Wrex that he was using the compound's intercom system. **"THIS IS A WARNING TO YOU AND YOUR FOLLOWERS! I HAVE ACTIVATED MY CLAN'S NEW TOY, WREX WILL KNOW WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT! YOU ARE TRAPPED ON TUCHANKA!"**

"Damn it." That meant the anti-air weapon was online.

 **"I TELL YOU THIS, NOT IN HOPES THAT YOU WILL SURRENDER. NO, IN FACT I HOPE YOU CONTINUE TO STRUGGLE! I TELL YOU THIS SO THAT YOU WILL UNDERSTAND HOW DOOMED YOU AND YOUR FOLLOWERS ARE! AND THAT IT IS I, URDNOT WREAV, WHO HAS WILL BRING YOU TO YOUR-!"**

Wrex shot the speaker projecting Wreav's voice, reducing the rest of the rant to a far off echo. "Cowardly son of a bitch always did love to run his mouth."

Alan switched his comm-bead to the team's shared frequency. "I assume you all heard that."

 _"Copy Commander, what's the plan?"_ asked Jacob.

What was the plan? That was a good question. One that Alan wasn't sure he had the answer to. After some deliberation, Shepard turned to Wrex.

"Do you know where this AA gun he's talking about is located?"

Wrex nodded. "Sure do."

Alan activated his Omni-tool and brought up a holographic 3-D representation of the Urdnot compound. "Show me."

* * *

Immediately after Jacob Taylor had asked Shepard what the plan was, a fresh wave of Krogan decided to attack the shuttle. Luckily the blown out building Urdnot used as a landing zone for outsiders was the perfect place to make a stand. To Team Three's back, there was a literal mountain of rubble from knocked down buildings. That meant that anyone attacking the shuttle could only come at them from the front.

After make use of Samara's biotics to drag a few of the larger pieces of rubble out to make a semi-circle of makeshift barriers and establishing clear lines of fire, Team Three turned what should have been a killbox into a solid bunker. But that didn't mean the Krogan were going to make things easy.

During the Krogan Rebellions the Krogan became infamous for being able to easily overrun well built Turian bunkers and fortifications. Machinegun nests that should have required the enemy to spend hours crawling on their hands and knees were over taken in just a few minutes thanks to Krogan charges.

But each member of Team Three had survived the suicide mission through the Omega-4 Relay. They could handle this.

"Mordin! Squad coming in on the left flank!"

"Engaging!" the Salarian professor's sub-machine gun began to chatter almost as fast as the professor himself.

A trio of Krogan suddenly appeared out of the main entrance, armed with shotguns and what appeared to be shields made up of welded together scrap. Seeing them as a major threat, Jacob took aim with his M-100 grenade launcher.

"Fire in the hole!" Two explosive shells sailed through the air. The shield bearing Krogan ducked behind their protection just in time to whether the storm of fire and concrete shrapnel, not a single one of them was injured. Emboldened by their survival the shield-bearers doubled their advanced towards the shuttle.

"Shit! Samara!" To Jacob's right the Asari Justicar surrounded herself in a fiery blue aura and gracefully cast out a singularity. The miniature black hole flew into the midst of the shield-bearers where it promptly started sucking them in. Contrary to the belief of most civilians and what was portrayed in the Spectre Duty video game franchise, biotic singularities did not cause their victims to simply float around.

The reality was put on full display for Team Three as Samara's singularity swept the Krogan trio right off their feet and fused them, and their shields, into a bloody sphere of meat, bone, and metal the size of a large beach ball. When singularity disappeared the sphere dropped to the concrete floor with a wet splat.

Jacob shuddered. No matter how many times he saw it, he would never get used to it. Getting your body torn apart like that was no way to die.

"HERE COMES THE BIG BOOM!" A Krogan carrying a rocket launcher over his shoulder suddenly appeared, aiming his weapon right at the shuttle.

There was indeed a "big boom" just a moment later and then the Krogan's headless body tumbled to the ground.

 _"Threat eliminated,"_ announced Legion over the TEAMCOM.

"Nice shooting Legion," said Jacob as he appreciated the results of the Geth's Widow sniper rifle.

 _"Jacob, this is Zaeed. Copy?"_

Jacob put a finger to the comm-bead in his ear. "Copy Zaeed, what's the word?'

 _"The word is-"_

What sounded like Jack's voice in the distance shouted something. _"More fuckers coming up from behind!"_

 _"Hit'em with a shockwave!"_

Static followed. "Zaeed? ZAEED?"

 _"We're fine! On route to the landing pad with VIP in tow! Tell Patel to get ready for take off! We're going to need to move quick once Shepard takes down that AA gun!"_

"Wait, what?! The Commander's not with you?"

* * *

Indeed Alan was not with Team One anymore. Torn between getting Wrex to safety and needing to take down Wreav's AA gun, Shepard had chosen to split Team One. Zaeed would lead Jack and Grunt back to the landing pad and get Wrex, the true chieftain of Urdnot, to safety. Meanwhile he would go and take down the AA defenses. At first the team, particularly Wrex, had balked at Alan going out on his own. He had placated them by telling Thane and Garrus to provide sniper support their shuttle once they got it up in the air.

But it would take time for the Drell and Turian to return to their shuttle and there was nearly a mile between Alan and the AA gun, which meant that he needed to start moving now. Truthfully he'd probably get to the AA gun before Garrus and Thane got back to their ship. He was going to have to act like a lone operator here, just like Elysium.

* * *

 _Screams in his ear._

 _Fire everywhere._

 _Sparks of gunfire lit up the comfortably warm Elysium night._

 _In front of him six four eyed freaks laughed sadistically as they tied up a trio of civilians, two of them were children._

 _Hot anger burned through Alan's veins. His biotics flared to life, catching the attention of the Batarian slavers. One of them barked orders to the others and pointed at the lone human rushing toward them._

 _"How dare you!" Alan heard himself scream, "how dare-"_

* * *

Alan shook himself from the memories. Now wasn't the time to get lost in the past. Right now he needed complete concentration on the task at hand.

"EDI," he said aloud.

 _"Yes Commander?"_ the _Normandy's_ A.I responded.

"You still have those scans of the Urdnot compound from our last visit?"

 _"I do, would you me to pull them up for you?"_

"Please." Without any act on his part the Tactical Heads Up Display projected inside of Alan's TACC-Mk.V helmet, also known as a Death's Mask by Alliance soldiers, brought up a detailed layout of the Urdnot compound, similar to the one he had shown to Wrex.

"Show me my position," he ordered. A red dot appeared inside the Urdnot throne room.

"Now show me where the AA gun is." A green dot appeared about a mile away.

 _"Would you like me to plot a route for you Commander?"_ EDI politely asked.

"The fastest possible, disregard safety, potential enemy encounters, and factor in my biotics."

 _"Processing..."_ A yellow line starting from Alan's red dot zipped through the holographic Urdnot compound until it found its way to the green dot. _"Route computed, updating navigation to your HUD."_

"Thank you EDI," Alan switched the selector on his Harrier to full-auto, "send the same route to Garrus and Thane."

 _"Sending now Commander. Am I correct in assuming now is a good time for 'battle music'?"_

"You are." Alan stowed his Harrier and brought out his Crusader, he loaded an inferno-mod.

 _"Would you like something specific?"_

"Let's go with something...fast and intense."

 _"Acknowledged. Playing something fast and intense."_

 _ **[The Prodigy - Invaders Must Die]**_

A smile touched Alan's lips as the techno-beats of the 20th century song began to play in his ears. On his HUD a digital yellow line traced itself on the concrete floor with periodic arrows informing him of correct direction to be heading.

"Time to let loose."

* * *

Jacob swallowed as he heard the news.

Shepard was going on a solo mission to take down the AA gun and would probably have to face a small army of Krogan to get to it.

"Those poor bastards."

Jacob felt sorry for the Krogan.

* * *

Waiting behind a wall squad leader Gong of Clan Nok, a subservient clan to Urdnot, waited with three other of his kin for the order to storm the Udrnot throne room...again. The invaders had repelled the previous three waves, but this time would be different. In battles of attrition, Krogan always won in the end, for they were relentless as howling storm, as tough as the rocky mountains, and as fearless as-

The wall Gong's squad had been hiding behind suddenly exploded.

Gong was thrown onto his ass by the sudden explosion but quickly recovered to his feet. The same could not be said for Kan, the Krogan who had been standing in line directly behind Gong. Poor Kan was lying on the ground in a puddle of his own blood with a large piece of concrete lodged in his skull. Gong had liked Kan.

"You killed Kan! You bastar-" The human who glowed blue and had broken through the wall raised his weapon and fired.

* * *

Alan immediately took stock of the room as soon as he'd smashed his way through the wall.

Four Krogan, three if you didn't count the one with a piece of concrete lodged in his head. One kill already.

Those that were alive would recover soon, Krogan didn't experience shock the same way that other species did. Still, a few seconds could be precious in the grand scheme of a firefight.

"You killed Kan!" said the first Krogan to stand back up, "you bastr-"

Alan raised his shotgun and squeezed of a single shot. The resulting spread of inferno rounds pulped the Krogan's unprotected face and cooked its flesh at the same time. Before Gong's body could hit the floor, Alan had already whipped around to fire off another two shots, killing a third Krogan.

The fourth, stunned by the death of his squad, didn't even get to raise his weapon before Shepard biotically charged into him and slammed him into an unbroken wall. Without breaking his run Alan casually double tapped the Krogan, reloaded his shotgun, and continued on.

And only once the human had moved on did Gong's faceless body fall to the ground.

* * *

Chieftain Kova of Clan Nok was not happy.

Though it was by decree by his liege, Urdnot Wreav, that he personally be there to ensure to safety of the Anti-Air battery, he was anything but pleased to carry out the order. Kova had wanted to lead the charge into the throne room, to engage in battle as his ancestors of old had done before. His talents for combat and command were wasted on guard duty.

"Chieftain! Chieftain!" One of his fellow Nok kinsmen came running up to him.

"What is it whelp?"

"We have reports that a human biotic is fighting his way through our forces and is headed this way!"

That piqued Kova's interest. "A human? As in a lone human?"

"Yes chieftain! It's him...it's Shepard."

Kova smiled and hefted his ancestral war-cleaver, _Head Reaper_ , onto his shoulder.

The **Hero of Elysium** was on his way here.

* * *

Half a mile into his mile long mission and Shepard had accumulated a kill count of fifteen Krogan soldiers. Some he had gunned down with his weapons, others he had splattered with his biotics, and a few he had humiliated in CQC. It was a beautiful thing to see a Krogan blanch upon being knocked on his ass by a "puny human".

All this Alan had accomplished while only taking a few hits himself, so far so good.

As he reloaded his Crusader, Alan rounded a corner into a low narrow hallway at the end of which was a door guarded by two Krogan. Shepard's HUD told him that the fastest route to the AA gun was through that door, which was bad news for those guards.

With no hesitation Alan sprinted down the hall towards the door and the Krogan. Upon seeing the human baring down on them the two guards immediately opened fire with their assault rifles. Only a few bullets struck Shepard's barrier before he threw up his free hand to form a circular translucent blue shield. Hundreds of rounds fired from the two Krogans were sucked into the swirling vortex and left to spin around harmlessly inside the **Biotic Shield**.

Once he was close enough Alan dropped the shield, allowing a hundred tiny grains of metal to fall. The vanguard then disappeared in a blue streak only to reappear and give one of the guards a biotically empowered shoulder check, the Krogan slammed against the concrete walls of the hallway with an ugly crunch.

Before his comrade could assist, Alan cast a quick high powered throw that slammed the Krogan against the opposite wall, temporarily stunning him. The human than turned back to the first Krogan and shot him, point blank, in the face with his Crusader, splattering the Krogan's blood and brain matter all over the hallway wall.

The second Krogan had now recovered and tried to charge the human.

Alan shot him in the quad.

The Krogan let out an uncharacteristically high pitched yelp.

Another shot in his open mouth killed the Krogan instantly.

As he vented the heat from his Crusader, Alan checked his HUD. It read 0.49 miles, he was halfway there.

 _ **[The Prodigy - Invaders Must Die - 2:00]**_

 _"Shepard. A moment if you please."_

"Go ahead EDI," the A.I always had some sort of useful tactical advice to offer.

Once again without any say on his end Alan's HUD was overridden to show a digital representation of the Urdnot compound. This time he was shown a closer look at the area he identified as being in right now.

 _"The section of the Urdnot compound you are about to enter is a quarter mile long hallway. Thermal imaging shows two dozen armed hostiles. A number of them have taken up high ground positions on upper level balconies on either side of the hallway. Others have constructed what I believe to be crude barriers to block your path."_

"So they're ready for me," Shepard summarized as he switched from Crusader to Harrier.

 _"Correct,"_ said EDI.

"Then it'll be a fair fight."

Without another word Alan kicked the thin metal doors off their hinges. True to EDI's word, Alan found himself running into a long two-storied hallway with upper level balconies on either side that extended the entire length of the hall. The A.I had also been correct on enemy numbers, two dozen Krogan armed with an assortment of rifles, shotguns, and oversized pistols opened fire as soon as Alan stepped into their sights.

* * *

Through the scope of his rifle, the sniper watched as the group of four made their way back to the Urdnot landing pad. The team defending the Kodiak shuttle, led by the dark skinned human, greeted the group joyously. The returning group's greeting was considerably more muted, almost indifferent.

Among the returning group were two Krogan. The first, the smaller of the two, was dressed in white armor and had an undeveloped crest, marking him as not yet a full adult. The sniper recognized him as part of Commander Shepard's current crew. He was a priority target, not yet at least.

The other one wore cracked red armor, had a crimson crest, and bore many scars on his face. That one the sniper knew was Urdnot Wrex, the **former** chieftain of Clan Urdnot and near ruler of all of Tuchanka. He was a priority target.

The sniper placed the reticle of his scope on Wrex's head.

A single shot and he could end the Urdnot line.

But the sniper stayed his hand. He was not foolish enough to believe that he could kill Wrex with just one shot. The Krogan had survived centuries of wars, assassinations, and death. Right now he presented the worst possible target, one that was on its guard.

The first shot would definitely hit, but was unlikely to kill, at which point Shepard's team would be free to retaliate. Then the sniper would have to relocated and wait for another chance, one that would likely never come.

So the sniper waited, until such time that he was sure he could kill Urdnot Wrex.

* * *

 _ **[The Prodigy - Invaders Must Die - 2:29]**_

Alan blurred.

Forwards. Backwards. To the Sides. And Straight up into the air.

Wherever the Krogan looked all they saw was a streak of blue fire to indicate where the human had been just a few moments ago. More than a few times a Krogan accidentally shot an ally while trying to hit the human. One even died due to accidental friendly fire.

With his opponents suitably confused, Alan got to work.

For a brief ten seconds of non-biotic movment, Shepard sprinted down the hall while firing his Harrier at the Krogan up on the balcony to his left. Two Krogan went down while another three were mildly wounded. The weapon's alarms shot into the red, warning him of an overheated heatsink.

Alan suddenly bounced back off the heel of his foot and then teleported back to where he had started ten seconds ago. He then disappeared in a streak **straight up** into the air where he grabbed onto the right balcony's guardrail. Shepard threw himself up onto the balcony where he was immediately confronted by four charging Krogan.

Casually he cast a biotic shockwave that knocked all of them off the balcony. The fall wouldn't kill any of them, but they'd have a few broken bones. Quickly the vanguard traded his assault rifle for his Incisor sniper rifle. With his new height advantage Alan quickly sighted down his targets.

Using the rifle's single fire mode Shepard fired six shots, killing the three survivors from the opposite balcony and another two from the lower level. Before another round could be fired Alan spotted a Krogan leveling what looked to be a rocket launcher at his position.

"Uh oh."

Alan leapt from the balcony just as the Krogan fired the heavy weapon.

Behind him the rocket demolished a section of the hall. But rather than fall to the waiting ground below, Alan lowered his mass to that of a feather and slowed his descent to a few centimeters a second, causing him to essentially **float** fifteen feet in the air.

With his new position, Alan quickly sniped the rocket launcher wielding Krogan with a shot through the eye. Before he dropped back down he managed to squeeze off two more rounds to kill one more Krogan.

Upon touching Tuchanka's surface once again, Alan exchanged his sniper rifle for his Crusader. The Krogan that he had tossed off the balcony were pissed and immediately jumped at the opportunity to crush the human that had humiliated them.

Once again Alan was a blur.

He teleported himself right into the pack of Krogan. With the kinetic force of a speeding aircar Alan slammed into the leader and sent him flying into one of the makeshift rubble barriers. Before the rest could realize the human was in their midsts, Alan unleashed his barrier into a biotic nova. All three Krogan were killed instantly upon being struck with a kinetic shockwave comparable to an explosion of ten grenades.

Alan took a moment to asses the situation and take a quick breather.

13 dead.

11 more to go.

Blood was pumping, slight headache, a bit hungry, but he could keep going.

"FUCKING HUMAN! DIE!"

The Krogan that Alan had sent flying into a rubble barrier was now charging at him with a large cleaver.

Shepard rolled his eyes. This Krogan was probably some young idiot. One who was too caught up in his blood rage to realize the human he was charging had just killed half the Krogan in the room in just under five minutes. Too bad for him.

With the sound of 20th Century music still pumping into his ear, Alan switched his Crusader's rounds from **spread** to **slug** and fired off a single shot that broke the cleaver in half. The young Krogan looked at his ruined weapon with bewilderment. Shepard put an end to that when he teleported forward and discharged a warp bolt right into the Krogan's face.

Poor young fool had only a few moments to realize his error before the matter destabilizing field turned his face, skull, and brains into a red slurry.

"Eugh," Alan had forgotten how gross the effects of a biotic warp were when applied to organics.

The 10 remaining Krogan stared in shock at the human that had killed so many of their kin so quickly. Some of them even felt something that had not touched them in centuries: fear. Yes, they were afraid of this human.

They were afraid and Alan could see it in their eyes.

"BOO!"

Though they did not run screaming, like Shepard would have preferred, he did cause the Krogan to jump in surprise. To some it would have been nothing more than an amusing rarity, for Alan it was a perfect opportunity.

Taking advantage of their momentary lack of guard, Shepard broke into a sprint and teleported forward twice. The first teleport transported him five meters forward, putting him at the door step of the Krogan hiding behind the barrier on the ground level. The second launched him four meters into the air.

Alan lowered his mass and floated just long enough to pull his Crusader's trigger twice, killing two Krogan on the right balcony. The vanguard then returned his mass to normal only to blur onto left balcony.

Four Krogan turned a little too late. Alan flicked the selector on his shotgun from single-fire to full-auto. His finger jammed down on the trigger and his Crusader bucked liked mad stallion. With his cybernetic strength implants keeping his hand steady, Shepard let loose for a full five seconds.

The balcony was turned into a killing floor as the heavy slugs propelled at hyper-velocities blew dinner plate sized holes through Krogan flesh. Alan stopped only when the Crusader could take no more and the system ejected the cherry red thermal clip with a sharp _chk-chk._

"Damn," Alan muttered, he'd gotten a little carried away.

With the ground level Krogan already turning to fire on him, there was no time to reload. Instead, Alan leapt off the balcony high into the air and then increased his mass significantly.

"CANNON BAAAAAAAALL!"

The vanguard dropped towards the last Krogan like a rock, glowing with a fiery blue aura. Alan channeled the energy of his barrier into his fist and promptly smashed it into the floor, killing the last Krogan with a powerful kinetic wave.

Upon seeing that he was the last thing standing in the hall, Alan spared a quick glance to the mission timer in the corner of his HUD. It had taken him 10 minutes to kill all 24 Krogan.

The vanguard huffed in frustration. "I'm getting sloppy."

* * *

Having just turned the hallway into a charnel house, Alan was relieved to find little to no resistance the rest of his way to the AA gun. Upon making it to the end of the hall, rushing up five stories of stairs, and stepping out onto the roof of one of the few still standing buildings on Tuchanka, Alan finally laid eyes upon his objective.

Confusion was the first thing he felt, which was unexpected. He had expected the AA gun to be an antique from the Krogan Rebellions, something Wreav had found buried under the rubble and patched up to be used. He expected it to be old, rickety, and held together with tape. Instead what Alan saw was something completely foreign and definitely brand new.

Large twin barrels that looked like they could punch through the _Normandy_ sat on top of a square swiveling head, which was mounted onto a single foot that was securely fastened onto the concrete roof. This was most certainly not Krogan design and Alan doubted the species had any engineers capable of developing something completely new. Then he remembered Wrex's words: "he's got a benefactor!"

This AA gun was probably part of that benefactor's generosity.

Alan activated his Omni-tool. He needed to get a scan of this thing before he destroyed it. They could use the scan to try and trace it back to its maker, maybe even glean a new useful design to use when the Reapers came.

But just as Shepard got within scanning range, a Krogan stepped out from behind the massive weapon. In one hand he held a massive cleaver, which rested on his shoulder, and in his other hand he held what looked to be an Executioner pistol. That and his red armor confirmed him to be a member of the Blood Pack mercenary group.

Alan sighed. The guy looked like he was about to make some sort of speech.

"Commander Shepard, we meet at last." Yup, big speech. Probably rehearsed while Alan was making his way here.

"And you are?" Shepard asked.

"I…" the Krogan paused dramatically, "…am Nok Kova, Chieftain of the Nok Clan! I have been waiting for you here, it has been so long since I have done battle against a true warrior!"

"Is that so."

"Yes! I thought that there were no more worthy foes out there, so imagine my surprise when I hear that the **Hero of Elysium** himself is on Tuchanka! Now at last, I shall have a true battle!" Kova gave his cleaver an experimental swing and its edge sang dangerously. "It has been so long since _Head Reaper_ has lived up to its name."

" _Head Reaper?_ You named your cleaver _Head Reaper?"_ Alan barely stifled a chuckle.

"Indeed. Do you know why?"

"Cause it reaps heads?"

"Yes, and soon it shall reap yours! I promise to let your skull have a place of honor among my trophies!"

"That's nice, but I don't really have time for this. So…" Alan raised his Crusader and fired off a single slug. Kova snarled and threw up _Head Reaper_ just in time to deflect the round. Shepard was surprised, he had assumed the chieftain was all talk but it had taken real reflexes to pull that off.

Blocking even a single bullet with nothing but a sword was impressive.

Alan switched his Crusader back to full auto and held down the trigger.

Once again Kova held up _Head Reaper_ to defend himself while at the same time charging towards the human. Six slugs bounced off of the massive war cleaver, allowing the chieftain to make it halfway across the roof towards Shepard. Damn that thing was thick! Always trust the Krogan to make something indestructible.

Alan was forced to cease fire or risk overheating his Crusader. Impressively, Kova closed the remaining distance between them with incredible speed once he wasn't on the defensive.

Engaging a Krogan in CQC was frowned upon. Engaging a Krogan with a sword in CQC was probably suicidal. But Alan had already proven that he was an exception to rule.

The Krogan's blade work was surprisingly nimble for a race that always seemed to want to take the bluntest approach. Every time Kova made a swing with _Head Reaper_ Alan only managed to dodge the oversized blade by few inches. Despite it clearly having been made centuries ago, Shepard wasn't willing to test if it was sharp enough to cut its way through his armor or risk breaking bones from the sheer strength of Kova's strikes.

"Is dodging all you can do Hero of Elysium!? I expected better!" Alan ducked under a swing and took this opportunity to get through Kova's guard to deliver a biotically infused kick. The strike hit Kova in his second kidney and sent the Krogan tumbling 10 feet away, almost to the edge of the roof.

Alan raised his Crusader and gave thought to ending it right there, but then realized the blade obsessed Krogan could be useful. They'd be leaving Tuchanka soon with little information as to what the hell was going beyond what Wrex knew, which appeared to be not a whole lot. Maybe Kova would know more, and so Alan lowered his weapon.

"Do yourself a favor and surrender," he said plainly.

"Never!" Kova bellowed and charged again.

Reluctantly Alan put his shotgun away in favor of his two fists. This was going to be a pain.

Upon seeing that Shepard would be standing his ground, Kova let loose a hearty laugh of joy. Alan for his part quietly recalled his lessons in disarming a combatant armed with a bat, or in this case a sword.

Still laughing, Kova made a horizontal swing with _Head Reaper_ that would have bifurcated the Hero of Elysium at the waist. But Alan was far too fast to let that happen. Using his lessons in Brazilian Jujitsu, Alan stepped forward towards the Krogan as his blade swung and stopped the strike cold by catching Kova by the elbow.

The Krogan tried to shrug Alan off but the human increased his mass significantly and stubbornly stayed put. Shepard then threw a kick into Kova's knee.

Krogan bones were near impossible to break. Usually one needed to hit a Krogan with an aircar before their skeletons took any kind of damage. Alan accomplished it through a combination of his cybernetic strength implants and his biotics. Kova's knee bent backwards with a crunch similar to a tree breaking.

The Krogan screamed and fell. Not wanting to leave anything to chance, Alan whipped out his Carnifex and put eight rounds into the chieftain's other leg, nearly severing it. Kova grabbed for _Head Reaper_ and Shepard kicked the blade out of reach.

"Don't go anywhere," said Alan as he walked towards the AA gun.

"W-what are you doing?!" demanded the chieftain, "come back here and finish it!"

Shepard unclipped two Hi-Ex grenades from his belt. "I'll be with you in just in minute," he said with casual assurance.

"Coward! You are not a true warrior! The tales of the Hero of Elysium are a lie!"

Alan suddenly stopped.

* * *

 _"How dare you!" Alan heard himself scream, "how dare you!"_

 _The Batarian slavers fired at the charging human but to no avail as the fiery blue corona surrounding him protected him completely. Before they could change tactics, the human was among them._

 _He broke bones and tore flesh with his bare hands, melted off skin with Warp fields, tossed full grown soldiers meters through the air, all while screaming the same thing over and over again._

" _How dare you!"_

* * *

Kova knew from the Commander's reaction that he had hit a nerve. But before he could continue poking at it the human appeared before him in a flash of blue light.

"Don't ever talk to me about Elysium." The same fiery blue corona that had enveloped Shepard on Elysium returned as he loomed over Kova and the chieftain couldn't have been happier. There it was, the warrior who would end him, the only kind of warrior that was worthy to end him. The Krogan would sing songs of his death.

"And for the record, I never liked the title: The Hero of Elysium. It's bullshit propaganda made up by the press. I prefer the name the Alliance gave me: **The Storm of Elysium**."

"The storm," Kova whispered, a fitting title.

Alan kicked the Krogan in the side of the head and everything went black for Nok Kova.

A minute later Alan had set had tossed his Hi-Ex grenades down what he assumed to be some sort of maintenance hatch, but not before getting a few scans on his Omni-tool. As the AA gun erupted into a brilliant display of fire and shrapnel, Alan went over the scans that he had gotten. Shepard was no engineer, but the stuff he was seeing was definitely not something from Council space.

As an N7 graduate he had a general idea of the mechanics of most weapons. None of that helped him here. Even the surface stuff was absolutely foreign. In the end Alan chose to stow the scans away and wait for better minds than his to take a look at it.

" _Shepard!"_

"Wrex?"

" _Haha! I see you wrecked of Wreav's new toy! That'll definitely piss him off!"_

Wrex's voice then changed to Jacob's. _"Commander, we see you now. Patel is coming in for a landing!"_

"Roger that Jacob, some of us are going to have to switch to Garrus' shuttle, we have another plus-size guest coming aboard."

" _Hey! I heard that!"_ said Wrex. Alan just shook his head in amusement.

* * *

" _Ladies and gentlemen…and Shepard."_

"Hey!"

" _I'd like to tell you about a story where a devilishly handsome Turian finds a human commander stranded on Tuchanka, but saves him by-"_

"Enough with the mockery," said Alan even as he chuckled, "just get down here and pick up my ass."

"… _Shepard, I know I'm the most handsome Turian in the existence, but I'm afraid I'll have to let you down gently. See I don't-"_

Alan cut the transmission and watched as the two white Kodiak shuttles landed on the roof. Both opened their doors, allowing their passengers to stream out and establish a perimeter.

"Clear!" announced Jacob,

"Clear!" said Zaeed.

Wrex stepped out onto the roof and waved a newly regenerated hand in greeting.

"Shepard!"

"Wrex! I see you're back in one piece."

"Haha!" Wrex flexed his new limb, "benefits of being a Krogan. Who's that you've got there?"

"This?" Alan gestured to Kova, still unconscious, "this is our new guest. I was thinking that if Wreav won't answer our questions, maybe he will."

Wrex frowned upon taking a better look. "I recognize this pile of varren shit. Chieftain of the Nok clan."

Alan nodded. "Yeah, he said something about that."

"Fucking traitor swore allegiance to me a year ago. We threw a feast and he said he'd never betray me. I knew he was fully of pyjack piss." Despite the venom he spat, Alan thought he detected a trace of sadness in Wrex's words. Alan couldn't blame him. The Krogan were already weakened by the Genophage, now they were also stabbing each other in the back. Was it any wonder they were on the brink of extinction?

"Help me load him into Garrus' shuttle. You can have a nice long chat with him back on the new _Normandy._ "

Between Alan's unnatural strength and Wrex's above average Krogan strength, they were able to load the chieftain of clan Nok with relative ease.

"Putting the prisoner in my shuttle huh? You know I've seen how this works in movies," said Garrus.

Alan patted his Turian friend on the shoulder. "Don't worry Garrus, I'm riding with you. I'll protect you from the big bad scary Krogan in chains."

Wrex got a good laugh out of that. "Hahahaha! Just like old times Shepard!"

 _Crack!_

"SNIPER'S BACK!" screamed Zaeed.

"Wrex!" Garrus shouted.

The Krogan looked down to see a searing hole had been blown through his stomach.

"Shit," was all Wrex managed to say, before two more high-velocity rounds screamed through the air and struck him in the back. Despite the Krogan's natural hardiness, being hit by three sniper rounds knocked him flat onto the ground.

"Fuck! Garrus, help me get him inside!" The Turian quickly complied and assisted Shepard in getting their friend into the Kodiak.

"Argh! Spirits he's put on the pounds!"

"GO! GO! GO!"

The two dragged Wrex and put him down as carefully as possible onto the Kodiak's floor.

"Take off! Take off now!" Garrus shouted to Thane in the cockpit as he slid the Kodiak doors shut. The Drell nodded and Alan felt the shuttle lift off from the ground and accelerate skyward.

"Wrex! Wrex!" Alan's hands were covered in his friend's blood. "Talk to me big guy! How many fingers am I holding up?"

Wrex tried to answer and for his effort he coughed up a bucket's worth of blood out onto the shuttle floor. Garrus quickly pulled out his Omni-tool while Alan started applying medi-gel, but the holes that had been punched through Wrex were the size of dinner plates. As if that wasn't bad enough, judging from the seared flesh the sniper had been using inferno rounds, which negated a Krogan's natural regenerative abilities.

"Ugh, fucking…pyjak…shitting…" Wrex coughed up more blood.

"His vitals are dropping fast!" said Garrus.

"Thane! Get us to the _Normandy_ quick!"

"I'm going as fast as I can Commander," the Drell replied.

Wrex's eyes began to roll back into his head. Alan slapped him several times.

"Wrex! Damn it! Do not close your eyes you big bastard! Stay with me!"

"B-Bakara…our children…our children are calling…to me…it's beautiful," Wrex wheezed weakly. Alan had no idea who this Bakara person was, but he didn't like the sound of how children were calling him.

Wrex didn't have any children. Right?

" _Commander!"_ Jacob's voice suddenly came over the TEAMCOM, _"is Wrex alright? I didn't get a good look but it looked pretty bad."_

"He's losing too much blood, he needs immediate medical attention."

" _I'll contact the Normandy and have Dr. Chakwas prep for immediate medical attention."_

"Thank you." Wrex suddenly started reaching out wildly with his hand. Alan quickly grasped the hand in his own. "Wrex?"

"Bakara…I never...I never-" Wrex coughed several times. "I never told her..."

"You'll get your chance Wrex. Just hang on a little longer."

* * *

Down on Tuchanka a humanoid figure deactivated his stealth field and stared up at the ever shrinking Kodiak carrying his target. Once it disappeared completely he activated a communicator on his wrist and brought it up to his mouth.

"Primary target has been pacified."

* * *

Wreave rubbed the spot on his snout that Wrex had seemed obsessed with hitting over and over again.

"Chieftain!" A guard approached and offered a hasty bow, "Shepard and your brother-"

Without warning Wreave leapt off his throne and struck the guard right across the face.

"Not my brother! He is nothing more than an exile! And you shall refer to him as such!" the Chieftain bellowed angrily.

"Y-yes Chieftain!" The guard cowered on the ground, "Shepard and the Exile, they have escaped! Their shuttle managed to break through the atmosphere and-"

"ARGH!" Wreave slammed his foot down on the guard, knocking him unconscious.

 **"** _ **I see you have the situation well under control."**_

If a Krogan could pale, Wreave certainly would have.

From thin air the sniper who had shot Urdnot Wrex three times suddenly appeared. Clad in a dark trench coat, hiding his features behind a hood and mask, the sniper looked like a creature of the shadows from the old Krogan lore.

Had the sniper been any other individual Wreav's guards would have raised their weapons and fired. But the guard's weapons remained firmly at their sides. In his hand, the sniper held a small disk, and on that disk stood a holographic representation of a man wearing a heavy hooded cloak and mask with a thin visor.

The hologram's voice was spine chilling, even to a veteran of many battles like Wreave.

 **"** _ **You failed to kill Urdnot Wrex and the meddler Commander Shepard."**_

"It's not too late," assured Wreave, "he'll have to stop at the Citadel Checkpoint before leaving through the Relay. My men can kill her and the Exile there!"

 **"** _ **It matters little. My Cipher agent has managed to deal with Wrex."**_

"I put three rounds through his back." It had been the first time Wreav had heard the sniper speak. His voice was soft, almost sweet, like honey.

"B-but, then why are you so displeased if-"

" _ **Because, Wreav, though Wrex is now either dead or dying, one of your own now poses a threat."**_

"Impossible!" Wreav cried out indignantly, "my clan is loyal! Not a single one of them would betray me!"

" _ **Before he took down Wrex. My Cipher agent reported that Commander Shepard had taken a prisoner, a Krogan wielding an oversized cleaver."**_

Wreav fell onto his throne. "Nok Kova."

" _ **Then you know him?"**_

Wreav nodded. "He is leader of one of the subservient clans."

" _ **He poses a potential leak. Unlike you Commander Shepard has proven himself to be most resourceful. Do not doubt that it is only a matter of time before he gets Kova to talk."**_

Wreav was at a loss. "So…what are we to do?"

" _ **You, are not to do anything but continue to prepare your people for what is to come. My men will deal with this problem. We already have resource stationed at the checkpoint."**_

"You do? But, then why are you-" Wreave's voice suddenly caught in his throat. Helplessly he grabbed at the air as he was lifted clean off his throne by a set of invisible hands.

 **"** _ **My anger is directed at your inability to complete the task that I set out for you. I begin to question the wisdom of placing you on the throne."**_

"I...I can…" Wreave wheezed, desperately choking out excuses.

Without warning Wreave was released, he fell back onto his throne and immediately gasped for air.

 **"** _ **Do not fail me again Chieftain. If you do...it will be the last time."**_

The hologram disappeared, and the sniper disappeared into thin air once more.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Yay! New chapter! I'm so sorry that this took a lot longer to finish that the last few chapters. But I was editing this thing and found that I had to change SO MUCH! After all, I don't want to put up some half-assed incomplete chapter up for you guys to read. Plus there was real life getting in the way.**

 **That being said, you guys tell me if you'd rather me put up shorter chapters more frequently or keep with the really long ones.**

 **So yes, this chapter was all about Commander Shepard, I hope I've done his characterization and the other crew members justice.**

 **Some of you were wondering how Shep was going to stack up against the uber-powerful Sith Lords, I hope this gives you some idea. My Shepard is basically a super soldier/mega biotic who can kick some serious ass.**

 **For those of you still calling bull shit on Shepard taking Krogan in hand-to-hand, I have this to say.**

 **Shepard in my story is at peak-human strength, which means that he could lift 800 POUNDS of weight if he wanted to. The average Krogan is said to weigh about 800 POUNDS. So imagine if a person were to be hit with the same weight as themselves, they would get pretty fucked up.**

 **Please notice I never actually had Shepard lift a Krogan and jump ten feet into the air or any shit like that. At best I had him break a couple of bones or use Judo, a martial art that lets small people take down big people, to do some fancy stuff.**

 **Also I hope you don't mind that I threw in the sound track to Shepard's fight with the Krogan.**

 **PLEASE REVIEW AND FAVORITE! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK OF THE STORY SO FAR!**

 **Bye!**


	5. Chapter 2: Face of My Enemy

**Star Wars is owned by Disney and LucasArts. Mass Effect is owned by BioWare and EA.**

 **Ideas and language of the CODEX entries is based on the work of author: LogicalPremise.**

 _ **andrei666999666** : Revan is pretty great isn't he? :)_

 _ **RabidArmenian** : That's a tough question to answer. Personally I think the Reapers, since all they want to do is destroy everything. The Sith Empire wants to conquer so there is more of a chance to live._

 _ **Muratira** : Thank you for leaving such a long review. You are correct in regards to Shepard as you will see in this chapter. Despite being a super soldier/mega biotic he'll have serious trouble with the Sith. Also I apologize for the confusion but the AA battery Shepard destroyed last chapter was actually from the __**Sith Empire**_ _. If you go online and just search "_ _ **swtor aa gun**_ _" then you will find what I'm talking about. Sorry for the confusion._

 _ **Old One Griffin** : Oh be assured, I am very very VERY familiar with the lore of the expanded Star Wars universe and I know all about Force enhancements. You'll see what I'm talking about in this chapter._

 _ **General Slime** : Both of your concerns are valid ones. I hope this chapter shall put you at ease._

 _ **Ezio Auditore** **-TheOldEagle** : You'll see in this chapter I think._

 _ **Guest since ch1** : Thank you for your review! I'm am glad that you enjoyed the chapter, I always liked the Krogan and wanted to do something special for them in this story. The Geth will come into play later on as well, you shall see. I haven't given much thought to Andromeda to be honest, the game came out after I thought of this story. The Eternal Empire will not appear, if it does it will be in a sequel story or something. Lair of the Shadow Broker has not happened yet, but it will be an important part of my story._

 _ **RaptorusMaximus** : You are correct in your analysis and thank you for the compliment. Also, hehehe, if you fear for Wrex then I have done my job. Thank you for your review!_

 _ **blazenite 104** : Welcome to the story and thank you for your interest! I understand the sentiment, my goal is to make the "villains" in this story cool enough that even when they're winning you'll root for them. I too usually don't go evil when playing an RPG, it just goes against who I am personally and like you I end up regretting it later. I hope that my writing will be good enough to keep you around for a while. Also yes, after thinking about the combat music thing might have been a bit much._

 _ **TheHungryWolf** : Thanks for the compliment. The Sith Empire will have a number of advantages over the ME universe and that will be addressed. But don't worry, with story **will not**_ turn into a curbstomp of the Citadel species. _Plus if you think about it, the ME universe has a number of technologies that are not found in Star Wars. Thanks for the review, I hope that you'll stick around for a long while._

 _Once again thank you for your input! Please continue reviewing the chapters I put up, it's very encouraging!_

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 2 – Face of My Enemy**

* * *

 **+Milky Way Galaxy**

 **+Krogan DMZ**

 **+Aralakh System**

 **+2185**

 **+Aboard the** _ **Normandy SR2, Deck 2**_

"DOCTOR CHAWKWAS!"

With Shepard and Grunt supporting him, Wrex stumbled into the _Normandy's_ Med-Center. Fresh blood gushed out from his wounds and painted the sterile white floor of the ship orange. Any other being, even a Krogan, would have died simply from massive amounts of blood lost. But though he occasionally slipped in and out of consciousness, Wrex continued to hold onto life with a stubborn grip.

"Oh my word!" cried Dr. Chawkwas, the _Normandy's_ doctor, upon seeing the Krogan. "What happened to him!?"

"Three sniper rounds through the abdomen!" explained Shepard as he and Grunt lifted the Wrex onto one of the beds, "he's lost a lot of blood! Wounds won't heal, the shooter used inferno rounds!"

"I can see that!" snapped Chawkwas as she put on her gloves and moved to inspect the wounds.

"It's nothing!" assured Wrex groggily. But the moment Chawkwas touched him he let out a moan of pain.

"It most certainly is not 'nothing' you stubborn overgrown toad! You've probably lost gallons of blood already!" Chawkwas muttered a few very unlady like curses as she prepared an application of medi-gel. "I'm not entirely familiar with Krogan physiology, perhaps Professor Solus should come and assist."

"Good idea," nodded Shepard, "EDI! Tell Mordin to get to the Med-Center now! We've got a Krogan that needs medical aid!"

" _Yes Commander"_ replied the A.I

"The ship talks now? Am I hallucinating?" asked Wrex, who almost rolled out of bed before Grunt managed to catch him.

"That's our new A.I, EDI." answered Shepard.

Wrex groaned again. "Damn...what happened to this ship without me?"

A minute later Mordin made his appearance in the Med-Center carrying a white kit. The Salarian scientist promptly placed the kit on a nearby table and opened it, revealing a variety of needles, phials of medicines, and a whole host of other medical equipment.

"Have arrived as requested. Already formulated aid program. Long time since performing work on Krogan. Can begin procedure whenever ready."

"What the hell!" Wrex scrambled back and looked to Shepard accusingly, "A Salarian?!"

"He's a doctor," explained Alan.

"Professor actually," corrected Mordin.

"Those are the most dangerous kind!" spat Wrex, "No way am I gonna let some bug eyed Salarian cut me open and…and…and…"

Without warning Wrex's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slumped back onto his bed. Alan immediately went to check on his friend, fearing the worst, but a quick examination revealed a tiny dart sticking out of the Wrex's neck, right where the flesh was softest. Shepard looked to Mordin who was still holding up his a tranquilizer gun. The Salarian smiled then calmly walked over to his patient, all while humming a catchy tune.

"Blood loss must be great indeed. Subject weak. Usually require at least three shots before tranquilizer takes effect."

Still humming Glibert & Sullivan, Mordin opened Wrex's heavy lids and flashed a light into them. The Salarian made a few mental notes, returned to his kit, and then came back with a large needle that made Shepard wince just from looking at it. Mordin stuck the needle into the same spot he had hit Wrex with the tranquilizer and emptied the contents into the Krogan's system.

"Sedative. Should keep asleep until finished with treatment," explained Mordin.

The Commander was nearly speechless but eventually found his voice.

"How bad is it?" he asked.

Mordin made a few scans before replying.

"Damage severe but subject is healthy specimen. Will need to cut away cauterized flesh. Allow Krogan natural regenerative capabilities to do work. Lots of Medi-gel also needed. Application of steroid cocktail should aid healing process. Should be able to stabilize. Will report in an hour and give update. Till then, would recommend making haste to proper medical facility."

Alan let out a heavy breath, relieved to know that his friend was in good hands. "Thank you Mordin. Really."

The Salarian simply smiled. "Thanks is unncessary Commander. Am simply doing my job."

Alan returned the smile. "Just...don't be surprised if he tries to strangle you when he wakes up."

"Noted," said Mordin before getting to work.

* * *

After making sure that Chawkwas and Mordin got all the support they needed to keep Wrex alive, Alan decided that it was time to go check on their prisoner: Nok Kova. Upon returning to the _Normandy_ , Shepard had placed Garrus in charge of finding a suitable place to keep their new guest. The ship lacked a proper brig, an oversight that Alan had not been happy about, and so Shepard was curious to find out what inventive ideas were being used to keep a Krogan prisoner.

EDI informed him that Garrus was keeping Kova in the hanger. Alan thought that an odd choice given that putting a prisoner in a hanger meant putting him very close to potential escape vehicles, but decided to see it for himself before judging. Upon entering the _Normandy's_ hanger, Alan immediately spotted Tali, Garrus, and Zaeed crowded around what looked to be a supply container.

"You sure this will hold? I had to arrest a few Krogan before and-"

"For the last time Vakarian," interrupted Tali, "I know what I'm doing."

"Shepard, hey!" Zaeed greeted.

"Hey," Alan replied.

Tali ceased her work on the prison to face Alan. "I heard about what happened down there. Keelah, I always thought Wrex was invincible. Is he..."

"Mordin and are looking after him right now. They're taking care of him but we're flying to the Citadel to get him to a hospital. I'm sure he'll be fine till then. How's our guest?"

"See for yourself." Garrus gestured to a orange glass screen that served as a window into the supply container. Alan took a look inside and saw Kova, still in Omni-cuffs and still peacefully unconscious. A quick glance at the Krogan's leg showed that it had already healed itself.

"I think your kick gave him a concussion," commented Garrus. "Didn't wake up even when we dropped him in there."

"Concussions are like tiny bumps on the head for Krogan. He'll be fine," assured Zaeed.

Alan nodded. Two years ago if he had tried kicking a Krogan in the head every bone in his leg would have shattered. But with the cybernetic upgrades to his skeletal structure as well as the strength enhancements to his muscles it had become a relatively simple matter. On some level that scared Alan horribly. How much of his was still human? Could he even be classified as human anymore? Was Ashley right about him?

The commander shook himself from his thoughts. Now wasn't the time to be thinking philosophically.

"Will it hold him?" he asked, gesturing to the makeshift prison cell.

"Do you know how tough these heavy duty supply containers are?" responded Garrus. He rapped the knuckles against the side of the container, causing a dull echo. "Three inches of reinforced steel designed to withstand being dropped hundreds of feet without damaging the goods inside. It'll hold one angry Krogan."

"And the glass? He can't just shatter that?"

"It's Omni-glass," explained Tali. She reached out a single hand and pushed on the orange window. To Alan's surprise the Omni-glass started to bend in accordance with the pressure being applied by the Quarian pressing on it. "It's completely shatter proof. It won't break no matter how hard he punches. He could cut himself out I suppose, if he had a plasma torch."

Alan nodded with satisfaction. "Good work all of you. I want a security team watching him at all times. He may be trapped, but he's still a Krogan. Let's not underestimate him."

Garrus immediately volunteered. "I'll coordinate that with the crew. I'm thinking we have enough people for two guards a shift."

"Sounds good. Do it."

Zaeed took out a cigar and lit it with an app on his Omni-tool. "I'll take first watch till you get all that sorted out. Don't really have anything else to do."

"Thanks Zaeed. Tali, if you're not busy with anything I'm about to call a meeting with my command staff. I could use your opinion on something I'm going to present."

The Quarian nearly jumped in surprise. "Me? I mean...of course Shepard, whatever you need."

* * *

Commander Shepard stood leaning on the Briefing Room table. To his right stood Miranda Lawson, who was displaying a frown that he was quite familiar with. She only wore it when she was irritated with him enough to show it, but not enough to openly voice it. To his left was Jacob, who was looking considerably less irritated and more nonchalant. Standing next Jacob was Tali who, in addition to sticking out as the only alien in the room, was obviously quite nervous and uncontrollably wringing her hands.

"With respect Commander, is this really a priority?" asked Miranda, her tone telling him that she'd already decided on the answer.

"Having the Chieftan of the Krogan owe us a favor might be worth it," Jacob defended. Alan appreciated the effort but he knew it wouldn't be enough to convince the XO.

"Still, this seems like an awful lot of trouble for something we're not even sure we'll get," Miranda pointed out.

"Wrex is my friend," Shepard cut in, "if I ask him to provide support when the Reapers attack, he'll give it to me."

"A Krogan army would be nice Commander, I'm not saying it isn't," explained Miranda, "but I doubt Wrex will give the support of all the Krogan just for saving his life. Friend or no, he'll want something more."

"We'll address that problem when we get there. But saving Wrex isn't what I brought you three here to discuss."

Alan tapped a few keys on the table console. The holoprojector in the middle of the table activated, creating an accurate 3D representation of the AA gun he had destroyed on Tuchanka.

"What is that?" asked Tali with subtle glee in her voice. She loved new technology.

"This is the AA gun I destroyed on Tuchanka. I took some scans of it before we left," explained Alan.

"That's an odd design for a Krogan weapon," noted Miranda.

"I'm convinced it's not a Krogan weapon at all," said Alan. He tapped a few more commands out on the console. "Here, take a look at this."

The image of the AA gun shrunk and a new image appeared beside it, this one was comprised of various readings. Tali's eyes immediately began scanning each window of data. One reading particular caught her eye and she expanded the window for everyone to see.

"This can't be right," said Tali. "According to your scans this weapon wasn't working based on the principals of mass effect technology."

"I think it was accurate actually."

"But Shepard, all weapons technology in the galaxy relies on mass effect theory to function. The only alternative is chemical propelled weaponry and this gun is clearly too advanced for that."

The commander thoughtfully scratched the stubble on his cheek. "You're right on that Tali, practically every weapon these days uses mass effect in some shape or form. But when I was near this thing I didn't get the ' _tingles_ '."

"The ' _tingles_ '?" asked Tali.

Jacob answered her question. "It's a little something that happens when a biotic gets close to the type of electrical currents used to manipulate mass effect fields. The electric nodes in our bodies are stimulated and we feel a small ' _tingle_ ' flow across our body. When I pick up a weapon, I can feel it a bit in my hands."

"There's always the chance that the weapon was shielded," suggested Miranda. "But a weapon of that size, meant to shoot down spacecraft, would need a fairly strong current to properly change the mass of its projectiles. I don't suppose you got a chance to see it fire?"

"No, I was a little too worried about it shooting down our shuttles," replied Alan. Understanding where Miranda was going with her question, he added, "But it was active, so I should have felt something."

Tali shook her head. "Keelah, I wish I could have seen it in person. With some time I could have told you all of its secrets. A weapon that doesn't utilize mass effect fields, it just doesn't exist anywhere in the galaxy."

"Well maybe it didn't come from **this galaxy** ," said Jacob.

A deafening silence spread through the meeting room as everyone digested what Jacob was suggesting.

Miranda was the first to break it. "You think that this technology might belong to the Reapers?"

"Oh Keelah," Tali jumped back from the scans as though they were dangerous.

"I don't want to jump to conclusions," said Shepard, "but...Wrex did mention that Wrev had a benefactor that had supplied his men with advanced weapons and armor."

"Could Wreave have made a deal with the Reapers?" asked Miranda.

"We did just blow up their Collectors," said Jacob, "maybe they're looking for some new errand boys."

"Wrex seemed to know more. But before he could tell us anything we were attacked. Right now we've got to get him to the Citadel where they have the expertise and resources to help him. Once he's healthy enough to talk, we'll figure out the rest."

"Agreed," nodded Miranda.

"Seconded," said Jacob.

"Alright, till then I want-"

" _Commander, sorry to interrupt,"_ Joker said over the _Normandy_ intercom.

"What is it Joker?"

" _We're coming up on the Citadel Checkpoint."_

"Give them our clearance and-"

" _That's the thing. They're asking us to dock in their hangar, something about your Spectre credentials being faked?"_

Alan frowned. "Faked?"

" _I'm just telling you what they told me Commander."_

Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. Today seemed to be determined to simply get worse and worse.

"Do as they say for now, I'll get this sorted out."

" _Aye aye sir."_

* * *

Upon docking, Shepard, Miranda, and Jacob stepped out onto the hangar floor where they were greeted by six armed men. The lead officer, a man of Asian descent, had regulation length hair that indicated that he was once part of the military.

"Commander Shepard," the lead guard spoke with a British accent, "I'm Sergeant Mills, sorry to have to detain you. Please follow me and we'll get this all sorted out as quickly as possible."

Shepard sighed, he would have liked to do nothing more than go on a rant about how bullshit all of this was. But Mills didn't deserve to be the receiver of his anger and making a scene wouldn't get Wrex to the Citadel any faster.

"Lead the way then."

"Thank you sir, just this way." Two guards and Sergeant Mills escorted Shepard and his team while the other three stayed by the _Normandy's_ airlock.

As they walked Miranda whispered into Shepard's ear. "That's odd."

"What is?"

"The guards, they're all human."

Shepard looked at all the guards and saw that they were all indeed human. He hadn't thought much of it before but now that it had been pointed out, it did seem bizzare that a Citadel Checkpoint would consist only of humans. Usually the majority of a Council security force, particularly one stationed at the Krogan DMZ, was made up of Turians, Asari, or Salarians. Humans had only started being allowed to apply several years ago.

"Maybe it's just a coincidence?" Alan suggested.

Miranda looked unconvinced. "Maybe."

The team was escorted for another minute until they reached what looked to be a waiting room. There were two others there, both humans, having some sort of argument about supplies and prices. Judging by their clothing and the topic they were arguing, Shepard guessed that they were merchants of some sort trying to get into the DMZ to sell to the Krogan.

"Please wait here." Sergeant Mills started to walk away but Alan put a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Look," Shepard began, "we're in a real hurry, if you could just show me to your boss-"

"I'm sorry sir but you'll just have to wait for another moment. Don't worry, the station chief will see you soon." Mills spoke with incredible calm. Likely he did not realize just how dangerous the man before him was.

Alan stuffed down any urges to get violent and angry. "I have a friend who is in need of serious medical attention. He could die if I don't get him to the Citadel soon."

Sergeant Mills hesitated. "I understand that you are distressed, but protocol has to be observed. If you like I can have a medical team sent to your ship and take a look at your friend."

"Are they trained to handle Krogan?"

"The team here are doctors straight from the Citadel sir, I'm sure they can take care of your friend's injuries whatever species he might be."

Shepard nodded and took his hand off Mills' shoulder. "Alright, I'll play along. But I want that medical team sent now."

"I'll call it in myself sir. Please wait here." As the Sergeant walked away Alan heard him speak into his Omni-tool and caught the words "medical" and " _Normandy"_. Assured that help would be sent for Wrex, Shepard allowed himself to relax a bit.

Mills left the room through a door next to the receptionist's desk, but the two guards moved to the corners of the room and continued to watch the Commander. Alan sat down in a chair located in the second row of seats facing the receptionist. Miranda sat down on his left while Jacob took a seat on his right.

"So, what do you think?" Shepard asked quietly.

"That receptionist has been eyeing you since we came in," said Miranda. Alan spared a quick glance towards the receptionist. Upon making eye contact the woman, also human, gave a charming smile and then returned her eyes to her terminal.

"Maybe she just likes what she sees," the Commander joked.

Miranda sighed, "Somehow I don't think that's what's on her mind Commander."

Shepard grunted, "anything else?"

"The guards were all carrying Tempest submachine guns, military grade, the assault pattern to be more precise," added Jacob, "Citadel standard issue is the M-7 Avenger rifle."

"This is the Krogan DMZ. It could just be extra-precautions."

"The Krogan don't have any space faring ships, no way they'd be worried about them all the way out here."

"Commander," the receptionist at the desk called.

Shepard stood up, "yes?"

"The station chief will now see you, please go through the door," she gestured to the door Sergeant Mills had left through. "An escort will meet you and take you to the chief's office."

"Thank you," Shepard nodded curtly and moved towards the door with his team.

The door hissed open and revealed their escort: twelve assault rifles.

"Christ!" yelled Jacob.

Shepard threw up a biotic dome just as a dozen rifles opened fire. Alan didn't question why these men, all of whom were human, were trying to murder him. This whole thing had been fishy from the beginning and now it had only confirmed what he, Miranda, and Jacob had suspected: this was a trap.

Unfortunately for these men, Alan was still in full combat gear.

With a heave of his shoulders Shepard channeled his biotic shield into a push that sent all twelve fake officers flying down the hall. Most landed on the floor with broken bones, some were unlucky enough to smash into walls and die from the impact.

Jacob drew his sidearm and finished off any survivors.

Miranda drew her pistol as well. But instead of taking aim down the hall she caught a glimpse of movement in the corner of her eye and whirled around to face it. Miranda found the "merchants" had brought out pistols from underneath their coats. As soon as the "merchants" took aim at her, confirming they were part of the ambush, Miranda fired her pistol twice and killed both of them.

Suddenly the receptionist leapt out from behind her desk and leveled a shotgun at the _Normandy_ team. Miranda's sights were already trained between the woman's eyes, but then she lowered them and fired a round into the receptionist's leg. As the receptionist cried out in pain Miranda closed the distance between them and expertly disarmed the woman before sweeping out her legs.

The receptionist attempted to stand back up but Miranda placed her heel firmly on the woman's chest.

"Don't move," she warned.

"Clear!" announced Jacob.

"What the fuck just happened?" asked Shepard,

"It would appear that someone wants us dead," answered Miranda, "and I think our friend here can tell us who."

The receptionist remained silent. At first Miranda thought she was simply attempting to resist interrogation, but then she heard a loud _CRACK_ come from inside the receptionist's mouth.

"Shit!" Miranda immediately tried to pry the woman's mouth open. But it was already too late. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as foam bubbled out from her throat.

"Cyanide pill hidden in her tooth. I should have seen it coming."

Alan shook his head. "It's not your fault. Besides, I'm sure the station chief will be plenty cooperative once you get your hands on him. Still, it would have been nice to know who we're shooting at."

"We've made a lot of enemies," said Jacob, "it isn't too far out there that some of them would try and take us out."

"Right after we escaped Tuchanka and Wrex's evil brother? No, this can't just be a coincidence. This is connected somehow."

"You think maybe these guards were from Wreav's benefactor? Maybe indoctrinated?" asked Miranda.

Shepard hesitated. "We can't be sure of anything except that the people on this station are hostile. We'll find out the rest as we go."

Suddenly Alan's COM came online. " _Shepard, it's Garrus."_

"Go ahead Garrus."

" _The medical team just arrived, we're-"_

"Don't let them on board!"

* * *

Garrus watched as the medical team approached the _Normandy's_ airlock. Best to call Shepard and tell him that Wrex was going to be alright now that the doctors had shown up.

"Shepard, this is Garrus," he said over the TEAMCOM.

" _This is Shepard, go ahead."_ Garrus noted that Alan sounded tired.

One of the four medics greeted the officers Sergeant Mills had left to guard the airlock. The officers allowed them to pass and the same medic waved to Garrus while wearing a friendly smile.

"Hey there, we're here about a Krogan?"

Garrus nodded and held up a talon, indicating for them to wait a moment. "The medical team just arrived, we're letting them on board to-"

" _Don't let them on board!"_

Garrus' eyes widened, before he could ask why, the lead medic drew a pistol and aimed it straight at his head. Luckily this wasn't the first time a gun had been put to Garrus' head. He immediately grabbed the pistol by the barrel and twisted it up, the "medic" fired into the air twice before another "medic" tackled Garrus into the guard rail.

Hand-to-hand had never been his specialty. But Garrus had spent years patrolling the streets of the Citadel where arrests often boiled down to brawls in an attempt to subdue the criminals non-lethally. Recalling his training, Garrus drove an armored knee up into his attacker's stomach. He heard the human gasp with pain, but amazingly he did not cease pinning Garrus against the railing.

"Go! Eliminate the target!" the 'medic' yelled.

 _They're after Wrex!_ Garrus realized.

The three officers that had been guarding the airlock opened the airlock door and the false medical team sprinted into the _Normandy_ unopposed.

"NO!" The bridge crew wasn't expecting an attack. They'd be butchered before realizing that the medics were actually assassins.

"Hold'em still!" ordered one of the traitor officers as he leveled his submachine gun at Garrus. As worried as he was for the crew of the _Normandy_ , Garrus right now had much more pressing concerns. Like not getting his head blown off.

The fake medic was still succeeding in pinning him against the railing. Thinking quickly, Garrus activated his Omni-blade and sank it deep into the human's side. A pained gasp told Vakarian that he had hit something important. Almost immediately the fake medic's strength slackened and allowed Garrus to break free.

"Kill him!" shouted one of the fake officers.

Thinking quickly, Garrus grabbed the fake medic and roughly pushed him into one of the officers. It did little more than stop the officer from firing, but the distraction allowed Garrus to draw his pistol and double tap the two other humans, killing both. The third human panicked upon seeing his comrades go down. Once his sight lines were clear he squeezed off a wild burst that drained Garrus' shields by a negligible amount.

Garrus in return fired three shots. The first two broke the man's shields, the third took him right between the eyes.

A pained groan caught Garrus' attention. The fake medic was trying to crawl his way towards one of his dead comrade's rifles. Garrus quickly put an end to his effort via bullet to the back of the head.

It was then that Garrus became aware of Shepard's voice screaming over the TEAMCOM.

 _"Garrus! Garrus are you alright?!_

"I'm fine! But that medical team got into the _Normandy!"_

 _"Shit! EDI! Tell the crew to protect Wrex and the prisoner!"_

The A.I responded immediately. _"Affirmative Commander. Sending orders now."_

"What do you need me to do? Should I go inside and help them hunt down the assassins?" asked Garrus.

 _"Negative. We'll leave that to others, they can handle it."_ The sound of gun fire temporarily drowned out Alan's voice. " _-hile_ _Miranda, Jacob, and I are hunting down the station chief, you stay by the airlock and make sure no one else get's in or out."_

"Copy that Alan. Keep me posted, Garrus out."

* * *

The transmission ended and Alan turned back to his team. Jacob was keeping a lookout while Miranda was busy scanning the body of their latest attacker with her Omni-tool. Unlike the fake checkpoint officers that had ambushed them, these ones wore full sets of combat armor and were armed for assault instead of infiltration. Their helmets were especially interesting. Instead of the single visor that the majority of military grade helmets utilized, theirs split the visor into two blue round lenses. One for each eye.

"So have we learned anything about today's bad guy?" asked Alan as he moved next to Jacob.

"Besides the fact that they have some seriously sweet hardware? No."

"Actually Commander," Miranda stood up from her scanning, "I think that I know who we're dealing with."

"Well don't hold me in suspense. Who's trying to kill us now?"

"The equipment these men are wearing is the standard issue of a PMC known as CAT6."

Alan scratched his chin thoughtfully. "CAT6 huh? Never heard of them. What can you tell me?"

"They're name is taken from the Alliance military term 'Category 6', used for soldiers who were dishonorably discharged. Apparently members of CAT6 are known to have criminal records and histories of drug abuse."

Jacob frowned. "So they're disgraces who decided to use their training to make an easy buck." He spat on the corpse of a nearby CAT6 operative. "Disgusting."

Miranda ignored Jacob's outburst and continued on. "It's likely that someone hired them to kill you. Possibly Wreav's benefactor."

Shepard nodded. "This is definitely not an isolated incident. Wreav probably told his benefactor that we got away from him on Tuchanka. Then his benefactor has his men on this station bring us in with a bullshit reason and then tries to kill us."

"It's a good trap. The _Normandy_ is trapped here and so are we. The only way we get out is if we can lift the docking clamps from the control room. These guys are definitely not fucking around," said Jacob.

"The docking bay control room should be our primary objective Commander. We'll be able to release the _Normandy_ and in all likelihood the station chief will be there to oversee things personally."

Alan pulled out his Crusader and nodded. "Agreed. Let's get to it. Triangle formation, I'll take point while you two bring up the rear."

* * *

 ** _SSV Normandy_ SR2**

 **Deck 2: CIC**

Upon pushing past Garrus and breaking into the _Normandy_ , the team of three assassins arrived in the CIC where most of the the bridge crew was still at their stations. At this point the assassins could have opened fire and killed the completely defenseless crew, but that was not what they were here for nor did they have the time to waste on pointless butchery. They were here for their targets and only their targets.

"Split up!" ordered the leader. Without any more words exchanged the team of three divided themselves. Two headed for the _Normandy's_ science lab while the third made a mad rush for the elevator.

 _"Alert! Intruders on Deck 2!"_ announced EDI.

* * *

Burt had been there when the Collectors had boarded the _Normandy_ and abducted the entire crew. It was one of the greatest embarrassments of not only his career, but his entire life. He had been put in charge of the bridge crew's safety and in the end he hadn't been able to do a damned thing.

Worse, he still had nightmares about it. About waiting in front of the door with his Avenger rifle. About that massive bug like thing, a Praetorian the Commander had called it, bursting into the CIC. About how the rounds from his rifle had barely tickled the monstrosity and how Burt had been utterly helpless to save his friends as it impaled them on its claws.

So when he saw a stranger running across the CIC and then heard EDI's announcement about intruders, Burt immediately sprang into action. This time he'd do his job properly. The men running towards him were just that, a men. Mortal and fleshy just like Burt himself.

"Freeze!" Burt leveled his Avenger but the intruders didn't even so much as flinch at the sight of the weapon. Instead the two on Burt's right continued sprinting towards the science lab while a third man, a large black guy with some serious dreadlocks, ran straight for Burt.

Remembering how he had failed during the Collector attack, Burt fired a controlled burst at the third intruder.

But to the security officer's great surprise, the intruder seemed to predict Burt's intentions and spun out of the way just as the bullets left the officer's weapon.

Burt attempted to fire off another shot, but intruder was just too fast. Before Burt's finger even touched the trigger the intruder had closed the distance between them. Then he grabbed Burt's rifle by the barrel, twisted it out of his hands, and smashed the security officer across the jaw with the butt of the weapon.

Despite having taken his fair share of punches before, Burt went down hard and hit the floor out cold. The assassin could have finished Burt off there but instead tossed the rifle aside and ran into the open elevator door where he promptly hit the button for the hanger.

When the elevator doors shut closed, Crewman Hadley and Crewman Matthews ran to check on Burt.

"Jesus! Is he dead?!" asked Matthews.

"No, he's just unconscious. But those intruders are still loose on the ship," replied Hadley.

"EDI! I saw one of the intruders is in the elevator! Shut it down!" ordered Matthews.

 _"Shutting down the elevator,"_ announced the A.I.

"Yes! That takes care of one of them" Hadley cheered.

 _"I regret to inform you Crewman Matthews that the intruder has escaped the elevator,"_ said EDI.

"What? How?!"

 _"...He has cut a hole through the floor."_

* * *

 ** _SSV Normandy_ SR2**

 **Deck 3: Crew Quarters**

 _"Alert! Intruders have made their way onto deck 3 and into the elevator shaft!"_

"Oh dear," said Karin in response to EDI's alert.

Mordin, who had remained in the med-center to monitor Wrex, pulled out a Shuriken submachine gun from under his coat and racked the slide.

"Doctor Chawkwas. Recommend you retreat to A.I core. Next few minutes likely to become hazardous. Legion can provide protection."

"And what about you?" asked Karin.

"Will remain here. Protect patient and sensitive medical equipment."

Karin nodded and opened the door to the A.I core, where Legion was awaiting her.

"We will ensure your safety," the Geth platform said. Karin nodded a thanks.

"God speed ," she said before the door closed.

Though an atheist, Mordin appreciated the sentiment of the doctor's words. "EDI, how have assassins entered Deck 3?"

 _"From the emergency exit in the Science Lab."_

"Oh dear. Hope they haven't damaged any of my equipment," said Mordin as he trained his weapon in the appropriate direction and awaited the arrival of the assassins.

Mordin did not have to wait very long. Just a few moments after he had finished saying his words, two humans came running around the corner and into his sight lines. Mordin's hyperactive brain quickly processed several factors in the blink of an eye.

One, both humans were unfamiliar and did not wear the _Normandy's_ uniform, thus he could comfortably assume they were the assassins.

Two, both assassins were armed. Mordin immediately recognized their weapons as Systems Alliance M-11 pistols with suppressors, a favorite of the Systems Alliance Intelligence (SAI).

Three, both were wearing shield generators around their waists, which meant kinetic barriers. He'd have to land multiple shots.

Four, they were surprised to see him.

Mordin gently squeezed the trigger of his Shuriken and let loose several three round bursts, perforating the window glass. The kinetic barriers of both assassins shimmered as multiple bullets struck home. But before the shields could break the two assassins ducked back behind a cafeteria table.

Mordin took this moment to reload his weapon. Unfortunately as he did one of the assassins popped up from behind the table and fired. The bullets shattered the window glass and struck uncomfortably close to the bed Wrex was peacefully sleeping on, still heavily dosed with sedatives.

"Please stop firing at patient!" Mordin ordered the assassins with a few suppressive bursts.

Unsurprisingly the assassins did not comply. From their position behind the kitchen table they had decent cover from Mordin and a perfect angle to shoot the helpless Krogan. All Mordin could do was continue to pepper their table with bullets in hopes of pinning them. Thankfully he did not need to do so for very long.

One of the assassins was suddenly surrounded in a ghostly blue aura, ripped out of his cover, and slammed against a wall. The assassin was left dazed and confused, weakly he reached for the pistol he had dropped. He had just about reached it when a heeled red boot painfully pinned his hand to the ground.

"Aaagh!" the man cried out in pain. His eyes traced up a shapely leg to see an Asari Justicar coldly staring down at him.

"Find peace in the embrace of the Goddess," she said gently. Then a pair of scaly hands wrapped themselves around the assassin's head and twisted sharply, his neck broke with a loud _snap_.

Thane exchanged an appreciative nods with Samara. Prayers or blessings should never be forgotten.

The second assassin soon realized that he had been caught in a bad spot. The enemy had him surrounded and he was outnumbered. Most in the assassin's situation would have surrendered, but this one seemed determined to press on. Defiantly he fired several shots at the Asari and Drell duo, all of which were blocked by a shield that Samara summoned to protect them.

The assassin then unclipped two discs from his belt and pressed activation studs on both of them. The first he tossed at the Asari and Drell's feet once the former lowered her biotic shield.

"Grenade!" Thane warned. He and Samara dove into the kitchen, while the assassin leapt over his cover and tossed the second grenade through the shattered window and into the med-center.

The explosive flew true and landed under Wrex's bed.

Or it would have, had Mordin not possessed the extraordinary reflexes of the Salarian species. His eyes easily tracked the incoming grenade and allowed him to easily pluck it from the air and tossed it right back at the assassin.

With a surprised yelp, the assassin quickly rolled into the kitchen to escape his own grenade. There he found himself staring down the gun barrels of an Asari Justicar, a Drell Assassin, and a very pissed of Mess Sergeant Gardner.

"You messed up my kitchen!" Gardner accused and then fired his shotgun.

The blast caught the assassin full in the chest, ending his life.

"EDI, our guest in the med-center is secure," announced Samara.

 _"I shall inform Commander Shepard."_

* * *

Alan's fist collided with the CAT6 soldier's helmet and caused the man's head to explode into a pulpy red mess. Sensing another behind him, Shepard spun on his heel and snapped out his foot. The biotic kick broke through the man's military-grade combat armor and caved in his chest with a sickening crunch.

The mercenaries had tried to play the distance game and kill Alan from afar. But the vanguard easily closed the distance with a quick teleport and proceeded to do what he was known for.

Having broken Krogan bones in CQC before, Shepard found the CAT6 mercenaries to be quite a bit squishier.

Another mercenary brandished a stun baton and took a swipe at Alan. He easily caught the man by the wrist and then brought a hammer blow down on the mercenary's shoulder. The combination of Shepard's cybernetically enhanced strength and the increased force added by his biotics resulted in the CAT6 mercenary's arm coming clean off.

"AAAAAGGGH! MY ARRRRRRRRRRMM!" the man screamed as blood gushed out of the stump under his shoulder. Alan mercifully ended his suffering by shooting him in the head with the Carnifex.

"He's out in the open! Take him down!" Four CAT6 soldiers concentrated their fire upon vanguard, who was still standing in the middle of the hall.

Alan quickly raised a hand and created a biotic shield. The transparent blue field shimmered like the surface of the ocean caught in a violent rainstorm. Though close to a hundred rounds had struck the shield, Alan remained unconcerned. If needed he could continue project things shield for another twenty minutes, even with the constant stream of bullets.

Suddenly EDI's voice spoke in Shepard's ear. _"Commander, the crew has successfully secured the Deck 3 and stopped the assassins from killing Urdnot Wrex."_

"That's good news EDI," Alan responded.

Suddenly all four CAT6 soldiers had their weapons ripped from their hands. Shepard spared a glance over his shoulder to see that the culprit was Miranda. Admiration twinkled Alan's eye, he would forever be amazed how precise she could be with her biotics. She had a level of discrimination that he himself was unable to achieve, matched only by Thane, and surpassed only by Samara.

But then again Samara was a 1000 year old Asari. Saying that she was better with biotics was equivalent to saying a dreadnought was the bigger ship.

Weaponless, the four CAT6 mercenaries were easy pickings for Miranda and Jacob, who quickly dispatched them with accurate double taps.

"Clear!" Miranda sharply announced.

"Clear!" Jacob also said.

Confident that he was in no immediate danger, Alan dropped his shield and returned his attention to EDI. "We're almost at the docking bay control center. We'll have the _Normandy_ free soon, tell Joker to be ready."

 _"Acknowledged Commander."_

"What about Kova? Did they break him free?"

* * *

 ** _SSV Normandy_ SR2**

 **Deck 5: Hangar**

Zaeed checked his Revenant machine gun again, one could never be too sure of a weapon's condition in the face of an impending firefight. Massani once recalled a job he had done on Omega, where he had checked his rifle five times before storming a Blue Suns safe house. But when the bullets started flying the damn thing jammed on him and he-.

He shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be recalling old memories. _Save it for dinner time Massani, right now it's time to earn your pay._

"Keep your eyes open," Zaeed said to the two security officers who had been on guard duty when the assassins arrived.

"Got it," said Reynolds, a black man who was nearly as old as Zaeed.

"Yes sir!" said Jones, a young man who probably hadn't even had his cherry popped yet.

The three humans spent the next few moments in tense silence.

"Hehehehe, my friends are coming." Suddenly hearing the prisoner speak made Jones jump. The Krogan chieftain had woken up not long after the security team had shown up. Ever since then he had done nothing but blather on about how they were all going to die.

Zaeed had been tempted to knock the Krogan out again, but settled for banging his fist against the side of the container several times. "Shut it you overgrown frog!"

"You have no idea what kind of terrors you now face! My masters want me freed! They know how loyal I am! How important I am to the coming war! Say a prayer to your impotent Gods, for soon you shall-"

Zaeed banged on the side of the container again, drowning out the rest of the Krogan's mad rant. "I said shut it! You say any more and I'm making barbecued frog for dinner!"

Kova sneered, but Zaeed merely ignored him. He had more important things to do than bicker with a Krogan like a pair of high school teenagers.

EDI's voice suddenly spoke in his hear. _" Mr. Massani"_

Zaeed touched a finger to the comm-bead in his ear. "What is it EDI?"

 _"I have lost the third intruder,"_ said the A.I.

"Lost him? How did you lose him? Don't you have eyes all over the damn ship?" he asked aloud. Upon hearing this, Reynolds and Jones tensed up.

 _"I do indeed have cameras that allow me to observe nearly all parts of the Normandy. As for how I lost him...I am not sure."_

Zaeed's scowl deepened. "Wonderful," he muttered.

"W-what are we gonna do?" asked Jones.

"Just watch your sector and everything will be fine," assured Reynolds. He then turned to Zaeed, "but uh...a little back up might be in order. Just in case ya know."

Zaeed nodded and touched a finger to his comm-bead again. "Oi! Psycho and Virgin, where the hell are you?"

A few moments later a surly voice responded. _"I told you to stop calling me that old man! My name is Grunt! Urdnot Grunt!"_

"Whose still a bloody virgin. I call it like I see them. Now where the hell are you?"

Grunt mumbled something incoherent under his breath. _"I'm still guarding Engineering."_

 _"Same here,"_ said Jack a moment later.

"Well get your asses down here. The assassin is coming after our prisoner, not the bloody grease monkeys."

 _"Fine, but with the elevator shut down it's gonna take a couple minutes. So try not to suddenly turn to dust in the mean time,"_ said Jack.

Before Zaeed could respond the transmission cut. He grumbled under his breath.

"Bloody kids, no respect for their elders."

* * *

 _"Negative,"_ said EDI, _"however one assassin still remains within the Normandy. The crew is currently attempting to apprehend him out."_

"Copy that EDI. Keep me updated, Shepard out." Alan turned back to his team. "The situation aboard the _Normandy_ is being handled. Only one assassin left."

"That's good news," said Jacob as he reloaded his assault rifle.

"We should free the _Normandy,_ grab the station chief, and return as soon as possible. I don't think it's wise to stay in DMZ any longer than we have to," said Miranda.

Alan nodded. "Agreed. Which way?"

"If this station follows standard schematics, the docking control room should be just down this hall." Miranda gestured down a long hallway with a single door at the end.

"You've memorized Citadel schematics for check point stations?" Alan asked skeptically.

"I've memorized a lot of things," Miranda replied with just the right amount of arrogance.

Just as Shepard was about to take the lead down the hall, the door to the docking control room slid open. A dozen CAT6 operatives poured out from the open door. Alan immediately noted that while half were standard CAT6 soldiers, the other half carried advanced riot shields.

The six CAT6 shield bearers moved to the front and locked their shields together like an ancient Roman phalanx, while their comrades hid in the back. All three members of the _Normandy_ opened fire upon the shield wall, but their bullets did little more than bounce off.

"Shit!" cursed Jacob as a ricochet bounced back and caused his shield to flare. "Those shields must have some kind of kinetic recycler. Anything we hit it with is just going to deflect off!"

Which meant that Alan wouldn't be able to just teleport in and punch through their lines. This was going to take some strategic thinking on the team's part. The CAT6 phalanx suddenly spread themselves out, allowing for small cracks between the shields. The non-shield wielding CAT6 operatives peaked out from behind the shield bearers and fired at the team through these cracks.

The _Normandy_ team quickly dove into cover, with Miranda and Jacob on one side of the hall and Alan on the other. Seeing an opportunity, Shepard pulled out his Incisor rifle and squeezed off a single shot through one of the cracks.

He was rewarded with an immediate cry of pain as one of the CAT6 soldiers went down. In response the phalanx reunited their formation. Through his rifle's scope, Alan saw that a small rectangular window near the top of each shield allowed the CAT6 shield bearers to see where they were going.

Shepard placed the reticle of his scope on one of these opening and fired a single round, only for the bullet to be just a centimeter off and bounce off the shield.

"Damn it!" Alan cursed. Garrus, Thane, or Legion would have been able to make that shot, but for Alan it was going to take time that he didn't have while under constant enemy fire. "Anyone got any ideas?"

Miranda peeked around the corner of her cover. "Those shield are the main problem. We need to get rid of them!"

"How do you figure we do that?" asked Jacob.

"We pull the shields away! Without them those mercs will be easy to take down!" Miranda explained over the constant chatter of gunfire.

Alan gave a thumbs up. "Sounds like a plan. On my mark we pull their shields away!"

All three humans began to glow with an ethereal blue aura.

"3...2...1...Mark!" Together the three human biotics popped out from cover and cast out their hands, sending out three blue orbs of energy arcing out to slam into the phalanx. The three center members of the phalanx had their shields ripped off of their arms, or in the case of Alan's victim, the shield was taken away with the arm still attached.

"MY ARM! MY FUCKING ARM!" screamed the former shield bearer.

The safety of the shield wall was now compromised.

"Light'em up!" barked Alan.

The _Normandy_ team unleashed hell in the form of hypervelocity metal rain. The CAT6 shield bearers that had lost their shields and soldiers that had been hiding behind the phalanx were quickly cut down. The shield bearers that still had their shields survived the initial onslaught.

Then Alan teleported himself through the gap in the shield wall and detonated his barrier, unleashing a powerful Nova that promptly ended their lives as well. There were no survivors to finish off.

"Clear!" he announced. Miranda and Jacob moved down the hall as soon as he said so. "Come on, let's go meet the station chief."

 _"Commander Shepard."_ EDI's voice once again spoke over the TEAMCOM.

Before responding, Alan signaled for Miranda and Jacob to stack up on the Docking Control room door. "Go ahead EDI."

 _"I have an update for you on the situation aboard the Normandy."_

"Has the crew dealt with the last assassin?"

 _"No. But the prisoner is dead."_

* * *

As soon as Zaeed had ended the transmission with Jack and Grunt, a shadow had dropped down from the ceiling right in the middle of the three humans guarding the prisoner. The shadow landed so quietly that Zaeed had mistook it for the shuffling of his own feet on the deck.

Then the shadow grabbed Reynolds from behind and snapped his neck. By the time the middle-aged security officer's body hit the deck, alerting Zaeed to the intruder's presence, the shadow had already put Jones in a headlock.

Zaeed swiveled around and his Revenant snapped up as he sighted down the assassin. "Let'em go!" Massani didn't expect the assassin to comply, but the demand would buy him time to analyze the situation.

"Yes!" Kova cheered from within his prison, "I knew I would not be abandoned! You! Kill them quickly and release me form this cell!"

The man holding Jones hostage was a mean looking bastard. Like the _Normandy's_ Armory officer, he had dark skin and had the musculature of someone who exercised every single day. But this man was at least a head taller than Jacob and unlike the Armory Officer's military cut, the assassin's hair was shoulder length and braided in thick dreadlocks. Most notable however were the yellow eyes that stared intensely at Zaeed.

"Let'em go!" Massani ordered again, "or I'll put one right through your head!"

There wasn't a single trace of fear in the assassin's yellow eyes. It wasn't that he didn't believe Zaeed wouldn't do it, it was just that he didn't see the mercenary as a threat.

"Kill them already!" demanded Kova, banging a fist against the Omni-glass.

"O-oh god! S-shoot him! Shoot him now!" pleaded Jones, who was clearly in a panic.

Zaeed was about to do just that, but the big Rastafarian looking assassin tossed Jones at him a split second before he could. It was a common enough tactic, shove a friendly at a shooter, forcing the shooter to instinctively lower their weapon in order to catch the incoming friendly.

Except Massani didn't get paid to babysit. So instead of catching Jones he simply stepped to the side and allowed the young security officer to fall face first onto the hard _Normandy_ deck. The kid's nose would be broken, but Zaeed had maintained his sight lines on the assassin.

Without hesitation Zaeed pulled the trigger. But by then the assassin was no longer there. He then reappeared in front of Zaeed and grabbed the mercenary's weapon by the barrel. The assassin easily disarmed the mercenary, tossed the Revenant aside, and then delivered a solid punch to Zaeed's jaw.

Massani went to his knees, only barely managing to catch himself. He tasted blood in his mouth and saw red.

"You cheeky little fucker!" He spat out a mouthful of blood.

From his boot Zaeed pulled out a knife and came back up swinging like a mad man. The assassin dodged the mercenary's strikes with frustrating ease. Zaeed quickly reigned in his anger.

Attacking like a blood raging Krogan wasn't going to help him, this assassin clearly knew a thing or two about hand-to-hand. Zaeed did the smart thing and chose not to engage the assassin with a knife. Instead of performing another flurry of useless stabs and swings, Massani backed up and expertly tossed his knife at his opponent.

As the knife flew through the air, Zaeed reached down for his sidearm. The knife was just a distraction, it wasn't meant do anymore than grab the assassin's attention. Unexpectedly the assassin did not move to dodge the incoming knife. Instead his hand shot out and plucked the blade right out of the air.

Zaeed drew his pistol too slow. By the time he had his weapon up the assassin had closed in, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him against the wall of Kova's prison cell. Massani's vision blurred, he probably had a concussion or at least a good deal of head trauma. Shit.

Even with his vision compromised, Zaeed still saw the flash of his own blade coming down at him. Unwilling to just let it happen, Zaeed raised his hand just in time to catch the knife through his hand.

The mercenary snarled at the pain.

"Aaagh! You! Fucking!..." The rest of what Zaeed wanted to say was lost as the assassin attempted to push the knife further towards him. Massani's hand burned horribly as the blade was buried up to its hilt through his hand, but even through all of it he continued to fight to keep its tip away from his eye.

"Yes! Kill him! Kill him!" cheered Kova, who had the best view of the fight.

"Not today motherfuckers!"

Suddenly the Rastafarian trying to sink a knife into Zaeed's skull was surrounded in a blue aura and tossed through the air. Massani let out a sigh of relief, never before had he been so happy to hear the sound of that psychotic bitch.

Unlike most victim's of Jack's biotics, the assassin did not splatter against a wall. He instead gracefully flipped through the air and landed on his feet.

Grunt and Jack joined Zaeed in front of Kova's prison cell.

"What's the matter old man? Throw out your back?" mocked Jack.

"Hehehehe, or maybe you feel the first bowel movement's you've had in months?" added Grunt.

"Ha-fucking-ha," replied Zaeed. He finally pulled the knife from his hand and then turned back to the assassin. "It's three on one now pal, say your god damn prayers!"

But as before, there was no fear in the assassin's eyes. In fact, up until now Zaeed had only seen the rasta-looking bastard carry out his task with a cold indifference, like all of this was just standard routine. Zaeed chanced a glance at Reynolds' dead body. It took a certain mettle for someone to take life without blinking. He hadn't seen it before and Zaeed berated himself for his ignorance. This assassin was no stranger to hostile situations.

In fact as the assassin's gaze wandered over them, Zaeed spotted something new in the man's eyes: excitement.

The assassin confirmed this when a hungry smile curved his dark lips.

"Three against one, this is good," said the assassin. His voice, a deep accented baritone, gave away the elation he felt.

"You fucking dumb in the head?" asked Jack. "We're gonna smear you all over the floor fuck-stick."

"My master told me not to use my full power unless it was necessary." As he spoke the assassin's hand reached towards his belt where he unclipped a long metal cylinder. Zaeed thought it some sort of stun baton. The assassin continued to speak. "I obey my master. The old mercenary was not worth using my full power. But now that there are three of you..."

The assassin settled into a predatory crouch and held the metal cylinder at eye height, parallel to the floor. There was a high pitched **_snap-hiss_** as two blood red beams of light extended from both ends of the cylinder.

Jack summarized everyone's reaction in three words. "What the fuck...?"

From behind them Zaeed heard Kova whisper in awe. "...Sith."

The assassin twirled his laser staff stylishly, Zaeed's first instinct was to laugh at the light show. But then noted that the red laser parts tore molten gashes out of the _Normandy's_ floor, a floor that was made of reinforced titanium. If it could could cut through that, it would have no problem slicing through their armor or their bones. Still, he had a fancy melee weapon and they had guns. So the advantage was still theirs.

Then the assassin drew the laser staff back to throw it.

Zaeed did not make much of this move at first. At best the assassin could target one of them.

But as the laser staff arced from the assassin's hand, it began to spin like a fan, creating a crimson red cyclone headed straight for them.

"Scatter!" yelled Zaeed. He dove to one side while Jack and Grunt dove to the other.

They moved just far enough that the spinning laser staff barely missed them.

But Kova had no such luck.

* * *

"He's in how many pieces?"

 _"Four,"_ answered EDI.

"Shit! How...how do you even...?" Alan was speechless as EDI attempted to describe to him how their prisoner had expired and how one man was currently taking on Zaeed, Jack, and Grunt all by himself. But the things that she talked about weren't didn't make any sense. A bo-staff with laser blades? Advanced form of biotics? All three of them being overwhelmed? What the hell was happening?

Alan ordered EDI to keep him posted and then updated Miranda and Jacob on the situation.

"A laser bo-staff?" Miranda asked incredulously. Like the Commander, she could not believe what she was hearing.

"We need to get back to the _Normandy_ ASAP," said Jacob.

Alan nodded in agreement. "But first we need to clear the control room, release the docking clamps, and capture the station chief."

"Capture?" asked Miranda.

"We just lost our only prisoner. So let's get a new one." No one saw fit to disagree.

"On your go Commander," said Miranda.

Alan slapped a fresh thermal clip into his Crusader. "I'll move in first. You two follow behind and clean up anything I miss. One my mark, ready?"

Both nodded.

"3...2...1...Mark!" Miranda touched her Omni-tool to the door's holographic lock and it changed from red to green. The door slid open, revealing a dozen CAT6 soldiers with weapons pointed at the entrance. Before any of CAT6 mercenaries could fire a single bullet, Alan transformed into a fiery blue blur and streaked in behind them.

His Crusader boomed three times, taking down three CAT6 mercs three seconds. Three of the remaining mercenaries swiveled around to fire on the vanguard. But Alan raised his hand and remained safe behind a biotic shield.

Miranda fired an Overload tech-mine from her Omni-tool. Set to low voltage, the miniature explosive disabled weapons and shields but left the EMP hardened consoles in the room undamaged. While the mercenaries attempted to reboot their equipment Miranda and Jacob rushed in.

Jacob gunned down three mercenaries with extreme prejudice using his rifle, while Miranda coolly shot two in the head. Alan dismissed his shield and slammed another trio against the ceiling with a biotic lift.

The last mercenary left dumbly looked at his dead colleagues who had been killed so easily by the _Normandy_ team. He heard a _chk-chk_ and turned to see Miranda pressing her pistol into his face.

"Where's the Station Chief?" she asked tersely.

"Uh...in h-his office," the mercenary stuttered.

"Thank you," said Miranda, before firing and ending his life.

She then calmly holstered her pistol and sat down at one of the control terminals. Alan let out a silent breath inside his helmet, he had nearly forgotten how scary his XO could be.

As Miranda typed away on a holographic keyboard, Alan looked through the viewport at the front of the room and saw the _Normandy_ still docked. A moment later and the docking clamps that held the ship prisoner retracted, releasing it to freedom.

 _"Wahooo! The Normandy is a free bird once more!"_ cheered Joker over the TEAMCOM.

 _"Away team, this is Garrus. Nice work! Come back whenever you get tired of murder and mayhem and we'll get Joker to take us somewhere nice."_

"Sound's good. But first I've got to have a chat with the station chief," replied Alan.

Miranda pointed toward a door at the back of the room. "The station chief's office should be through that door and down the hall."

Alan nodded. "We'll be back soon. Till then protect the _Normandy_ and get a handle on the situation in the cargo hold. Shepard out." He gestured towards the door. "Let's get this done and get the hell out of here."

Jacob moved to walk next to him. "Should be a cakewalk. We've already killed, like, fifty guys? What could they possibly have left to throw at us?"

Suddenly the door slid open with hiss.

The group's weapons immediately snapped up, prepared for fresh CAT6 soldiers to come rushing at them. But nothing came.

All that was revealed was that the lights beyond the door had been turned off, creating a near impenetrable darkness. This definitely screamed ambush. As Shepard cautiously moved towards the open door, he prepared to switch on his helmet's Night Vision.

From out of the darkness, a single armored hand shot forward and seized Alan by the throat. With his enhanced muscular structure, Alan's neck muscles had become like braided steel. When a Batarian slaver on Omega had attempted to strangle him, Shepard had simply laughed.

But the owner of this hand had no such problems, and for the first time since he'd been resurrected, Shepard felt the primal panic of suddenly losing the ability to breath. The hand hoisted Alan up off his feet. Then slowly, the one holding him stepped out into the light.

Shepard's eyes traveled down the arm and he found himself looking into the face of **Death**.

Then Death spoke. **"Greetings Commander Shepard."**

* * *

 _CODEX: BIOTICS: FACETS: DISCRIMINATION_

 _Biotics is the ability of some life forms to create mass effect fields using a combination of their body's electrical fields and Element Zero nodes that have accumulated in their body. An individual's biotic abilities are usually charted using four different facets, first created by the Asari school system. These facets are: Force, Discrimination, Surge, and Reserve._

 _Discrimination is the biotic's ability for finesse and accuracy. A biotic with high level's of discrimination could be precise enough to pull away a hostile's weapon or pick up a small object and then float it over to their awaiting hand. Generally speaking, Asari, Salarian, and Drell have the most impressive display's of discrimination. Most Human's and Turians have displayed mid-level discrimination. Krogan, Vorcha, and Batarian have predictably displayed very low levels._

 _Interesting notes:_

 _-On the Normandy SR2, levels of discrimination from highest to lowest are as follows: Samara, Thane, Miranda, Shepard, Jack, Jacob, Wrex._

* * *

 _CODEX: BIOTICS: FACETS: FORCE_

 _Biotics is the ability of some life forms to create mass effect fields using a combination of their body's electrical fields and Element Zero nodes that have accumulated in their body. An individual's biotic abilities are usually charted using four different facets, first created by the Asari school system. These facets are: Force, Discrimination, Surge, and Reserve._

 _Force is the biotic's ability for raw kinetic output. A biotic with high level's of Force can send multiple hostiles flying or toss an aircar. The most impressive display of Force was by a Krogan Warlord during the Rebellions, who was able to throw a Tomkah onto a platoon of Turian soldiers. Krogan and Asari Matriarchs tend to show the greatest levels of Force. Humans, Turians, and Batarians, usually have high to mid levels. Vorcha generally have mid to low Force. Salarian and Drell often have very little in Force output._

 _Interesting notes:_

 _-On the Normandy SR2, levels of Force from highest to lowest are as follows: Samara and Wrex tie, Shepard, Jack, Miranda, Jacob and Thane tie._

 _-Aria T'Loak, is known for unusually high levels of Force output, even for an Asari Matriarch. It is suspected that this is a result of biotic enhancing drugs._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

Yay, another chapter! This one was a bit on the shorter side but for the sake of pacing and tension I thought it necessary.

Something you will notice is that like many other stories, I have started creating my own CODEX entries at the bottom of the chapter. This will hopefully continue to be a thing as I had fun writing these two. The ideas and most of the language used in these two CODEX entries is inspired by the amazing author: **_LogicalPremise_ , **whose work you should definitely go check out.

Tell me what you'd like me to write a CODEX entry on!

Also in case you weren't sure, the assassin is in fact Zhaff from earlier in the story and **Death** at the end is The Wrath.

For those who still are having trouble understanding, the AA gun found on Tuchanka was actually an Imperial AA gun, not something they made themselves. Just "swtor imperial aa gun" into google and you'll find what I'm talking about.

The next chapter will finally have the two universes clashing against one another. It's gonna be good and we'll finally see which is better, Biotics or the Force. Tell me who you're rooting for in the upcoming battle!

Please continue to review my updates! It's very encouraging to see so many people get so heavily invested!

Bye!


	6. Chapter 3: Know My Enemy, Part 1

**Star Wars is owned by Disney and LucasArts. Mass Effect is owned by BioWare and EA.**

 _OldOneGriffin: Holy hell dude! You reviewed wicked fast! That's very encouraging! I'll take your suggestions into consideration._

 _RabidArmenian: I hope this chapter entertains you! Thank you for being part of the first day squad!_

 _andrei666999666: Hope it's everything you wanted!_

 _General Slime: It's a possibility, but the question is: who is in the most danger of dying? Wrex doesn't explicitly know that it is the Sith who are behind everything, he just knows that someone is helping Wreav take over Tuchanka._

 _TheHungryWolf: I hope this chapter is entertaining for you._

 _blazenite104: I apologize if this was not clear. The Normandy is NOT currently docked at the Citadel. This is a Checkpoint station for the Krogan DMZ. It's there to make sure the Krogan don't start building ships again._

 _Rumplestilitskin-TheDarkOne: You'll see in this chapter!_

 _RaptorMaximus: You're worry is warranted, hope you enjoy the chapter!_

 _Axcel: You'll see a little bit of how technology stacks up against each other in this chapter. Hope you enjoy!_

 _WarZoneN7: I hope this lives up to your hype!_

 _pedrorocamora102: Thank you for the review and for the in-depth analysis! It brings me joy to know you care so much about the lore and subject matter. You'll see some of that superiority demonstrated in this chapter._

 _Guest: Thank you!_

 _Please continue reviewing! You're words are very encouraging!_

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 3 – Know My Enemy, Part 1**

* * *

 **+Milky Way Galaxy**

 **+Krogan DMZ**

 **+Aralakh System**

 **+2185**

 **+Checkpoint Station A-02, Docking Control Room**

 **"Greetings Commander Shepard."** What could only be described as some sort of Dark Warrior stepped out of the shadows, carrying Alan by the throat.

Though his mind had begun to become hazy due to the lack of oxygen, Shepard still managed to pick out the English accent of the Dark Warrior's modulated voice. That meant he was either Human or a Krogan from Tuchanka's southern hemisphere. Judging from the lack of a hump, Shepard decided the Dark Warrior was human.

Rather than just let himself be choked, Alan immediately took action and chopped a biotic empowered fist down on his attacker's wrist. To Shepard's great surprise, his strike did little more than cause the man's arm to bob up and down an inch or two, when it should torn the hand off. Alan tried again and again, this time he was met with stiffer resistance and the arm barely budged.

Seeing their Commander was in trouble, Miranda and Jacob sprang into action.

"Put him down!" ordered Miranda, her pistol trained on the Dark Warrior's terrifying visage.

"You heard her! Put the Commander down now you son of a bitch!" Jacob added, waving his rifle for emphasis.

Slowly the Dark Warrior turned his gaze on to Miranda and then to Jacob. Both humans felt the faint chill of fear travel up their spines as their eyes met the colorless black lenses of the his mask.

 **"Very well,"** the figure finally said. He pumped his arm and Shepard went flying across the room. Miranda and Jacob swiveled their heads and followed the Commander's form as he flew across the room and smashed into the observation window.

Both of them winced at the audible and gut churning crunch the Commander's body made as it impacted the glass. Standard Citadel designs used ballistic glass strong enough to take hundreds of rounds while sustaining only minor chipping. But when Shepard struck it, the entire window suffered a large crack.

Alan's announced his survival with a series of hoarse coughs along with spitting out a sizable glob of blood. His armor and barrier had soaked up the majority of the impact and the cybernetic upgrades to his skeleton had prevented anything from breaking. But damn! His insides felt like they'd been put through a blender and turned into a slurry. Whoever this asshole was, he had a serious arm.

Assured that Shepard was still alive, Jacob prepared to unload his entire clip into Dark Warrior. But when he turned back around he came face to face with the Dark Warrior's armored chest. Jacob's mind reeled with shock, he hadn't even heard any steps!

Faster than any of the humans could see, the Dark Warrior tore away Jacob's Harrier and then delivered an open palmed strike to his chest. Jacob was sent tumbling across the floor to the other side of the room where his back smashed against the wall.

"JACOB!" Miranda quickly fired off a shot, one that the Dark Warrior easily dodged with a slight tilt of his head.

In retaliation the Dark Warrior reached out a hand and Miranda's pistol began to crumple in her hands. Startled by the sudden transformation, she dropped the weapon. By the time it hit the floor her pistol had been crushed to the size of a ping pong ball.

Miranda quickly recovered from her initial shock and began to glow with blue fire.

Twin orbs of energy formed in her palms. The Dark Warrior showed no hint of acknowledging the danger being presented to him. Miranda pumped both her hands, right then left, and sent the blue orbs arcing towards him.

Just before they could reach him, the Dark Warrior backhanded both orbs of energy with a single hand. Both warp bolts detonated and their flesh melting properties were released in brilliant splash of blue energy. But instead of rendering the Dark Warrior into a charred skeleton, the blue fire simply washed around him in a semi-circle. The floor was burnt and the station's recycled air was singed, but he remained completely unharmed.

Miranda's superior mind immediately caught the details and theorized that the Dark Warrior was using some sort of advanced shielding technology, the likes of which she had never seen before. But before she could continue her assault in hopes of breaking his shield, the Dark Warrior stepped forward and stretched out a hand, forming a "C" with his curled fingers.

Invisible hands wrapped their fingers tightly around Miranda's throat. Like Shepard, her genetically enhanced muscles made it very hard to be choked. But whatever technology or power this Dark Warrior was employing clearly didn't care, as Miranda soon found herself in a similar situation to the one Alan had been in just a minute ago.

As if being strangled wasn't enough, the invisible hands lifted her halfway up to the ceiling and allowed her to dangle helplessly. Miranda's eye's bulged as the Dark Warrior watched coldly and waited for her to die.

* * *

Alan had finally shaken away the dark spots in his vision only to see his XO in the air and his Armory Officer barely conscious on the floor. Shepard quickly brought up his team's health status on his HUD. It showed that Jacob was suffering a number of cracked ribs, he was however in no immediate danger of death. But it also showed that Miranda was suffering severe oxygen deprivation.

Seeing her kicking helplessly in the air like a hanging victim threw Shepard into a blinding rage. Without hesitation Alan initiated a biotic charge with the intention of ramming into the Dark Warrior and breaking every bone in the bastard's body. But as the vanguard transformed into a fiery blue streak the Dark Warrior began to move.

As Alan rematerialized, he channeled the energy of his barrier into his fist and prepared to unleash it onto the Dark Warrior. But even as Shepard drew back his fist, the Dark Warrior was already countering.

For first time in his entire life, Alan saw how he must have appeared to others when using his Biotic Charge.

The Dark Warrior blurred around Alan's approaching fist, releasing Miranda in the process, and delivered a spear hand strike to Shepard's gut. The air in Alan's lungs vaporized and he gasped as pain exploded through his side. He took a few weak steps backward before realizing that he'd somehow been hit. Inside his HUD, alarms screamed alerting Shepard that the armor protecting his ribs had been breached. His health monitors revealed bleeding along his side and that several of his ribs had been cracked.

Alan fell to one knee while clutching his injured side. He looked up and saw his blood dripping from the Dark Warrior's fingers.

 **"You're slower than I thought you'd be,"** Alan heard the Dark Warrior say.

"Commander!" Jacob had finally recovered from being punched across the room. Having been deprived of his rifle, Jacob drew his sidearm and managed to squeeze off a single shot. The Dark Warrior dodged with frustrating ease and then stretched out an armored hand.

Before Jacob could pull the trigger again, every muscle in his body suddenly clenched up and froze. It as if his entire body was having a massive cramp, like that time in Hong Kong when he'd been hit by a police shock dart. Try as he might, his muscles would no longer respond to his commands. He couldn't even move his mouth to call for help.

Miranda, who hadn't stopped coughing since her release, shakily stood up. Her body began to glow with blue fire again, but then the Dark Warrior once more wrapped his invisible fingers around her throat.

 **"You two are in my way,"** the Dark Warrior growled angrily.

The hand that held Jacob in stasis began to curl into a fist. As it did, he felt the pressure around him begin to grow stronger and stronger, soon it would crush him completely.

As Alan tried to work through the pain, more alerts screamed inside of his HUD. He looked to his team's status, Miranda's windpipe was under massive amounts of stress and Jacob's armor reported that he was being squeezed under half a ton of pressure, a value which was rapidly rising.

He swiveled his head to see that the bastard was taking his sweet time in killing them. Alan saw red as the anger inside of him was brought to a boil and he forgot about the pain in his side. He hadn't taken them through the Omega-4 Relay, into the Collector Base, and made it back, just to lose them here.

 **"Now you die."**

"NOOOOOOO!" Alan roared to his feet and tackled the Dark Warrior from behind. The act caught the Dark Warrior off guard and caused him to release Miranda and Jacob from his invisible grasp. Together, Alan and the Dark Warrior transformed into a fiery blue streak that smashed through the docking control viewport, shattering it, and deposited both of them into the air.

"Shit!" Shepard had admittedly not thought this far ahead.

In his surprise, Alan released the Dark Warrior and they both began to plummet towards the docks below. Having been in similar situations before, Alan immediately took action. Calling upon his biotics he lightened his mass until he weighed little more than a feather.

As a result, Alan _floated_ down towards the docking platforms below. The Dark Warrior on the other hand had no biotics and was forced to fall the full 70 feet at terminal velocity. A smile touched Shepard's lips as the image of the Dark Warrior splattered on the platform below entered his mind.

But it was not to be. The Dark Warrior executed a somersault mid-fall and landed on the platform in a crouch, causing a light ring of dust to spread out around the point of impact.

Shepard stared down with an open jaw.

"What the fu-"

Alan's shock was interrupted as the Dark Warrior reached up with a hand and seized his body in a ghostly grasp. The Dark Warrior ripped his hand down towards the the platform and Alan was sent shooting down the remaining 20 feet of his fall.

Shepard quickly wrapped a barrier around himself. When he finally slammed into the hard metal platform, the majority of the damage was soaked up and released outward in a blue energy wave. He was unharmed for the most part. But the pain in his side had reignited, along with a few new ones.

His training immediately took over and he put those pains aside. Shepard jumped to his feet prepared for a fight. Though he could not see it, Alan felt as though the Dark Warrior was looking on him with approval.

Shepard took a quick look at his surroundings and saw that no one else was around.

He would have to face the Dark Warrior alone.

* * *

 _ **Normandy**_ **Airlock**

Garrus had still been scanning the bodies of the false officers, trying to determine how they had acquired official uniforms, when he heard the sound of shattering glass and familiar voice shout out a curse.

In the distance, 600 human feet according to his eyepiece, two figures were falling through the shattered remains of the Docking Control room viewport. Garrus shouldered his sniper rifle and used the scope to zoom in on the floating figure. His suspicions were confirmed, the floating one was Alan using his biotics to slow his fall.

The other one...was different. He reminded Garrus of the evil villain from his favorite cartoons as a child. But it was doubtful that he was actually an alien warlord with supernatural powers. More likely the armor he wore was for protection and intimidation. That or he had some sort of fetish for skeletons.

Both Alan and the weird one were on the docking platform now with the Commander showing his back to Garrus.

"Damn," he cursed. Alan's big head was blocking his sight lines.

* * *

Alan had expected the Dark Warrior to reignite their fight, but at the moment he seemed content to simply stare at him from across the platform. Shepard gave some thought to taking the initiative himself by making the first move, but then remembered that this Dark Warrior had casually countered his biotic charge and decided against reentering melee combat.

He also had to consider those strange powers. Alan hadn't been sure of it until he'd been pulled from the air and slammed against the floor, but whatever the Dark Warrior was using, it wasn't biotics. When biotics fought one another each combatant would get the _tingles_ from the other due to the strong electrical currents being used by their amps. He had felt nothing from the Dark Warrior.

That meant either the Dark Warrior was using some sort of new amp or those powers weren't biotics. Given the lack of blue glow indicative of biotics, Alan was going with the latter option.

He would need to be cautious. More importantly, he needed a plan of attack.

 **"Impressive,"** the Dark Warrior's grating voice pulled Alan from his thoughts, **"I was starting to wonder if your reputation was unearned."**

"Who the hell are you?" Alan punctuated his demand by pulling out his Crusader. The Dark Warrior barely even seemed to notice the weapon. He seemed to ponder the question for a moment and then replied.

 **"Wrath. I. Am. Wrath."**

Alan cocked a skeptical brow. Was that supposed to be intimidating?

"Okay Mr. Wrath, would you care to explain why you're trying to murder a Council Spectre and his crew?"

 **"So the Council allowed you to retain your Spectre title did they?"** The Dark Warrior crossed his arms. **"an interesting choice for a man brought back to life by Cerberus. Do they know you are working with Geth?"**

Underneath his helmet, Alan's eyes widened marginally. For obvious reasons, Alan had chosen not to take Legion out on any missions inside of Citadel space. As a result his alliance with the Geth was a fairly well kept secret. The fact that this Dark Warrior knew meant that either that the secret wasn't as well kept as he'd thought it was or there was a spy on the _Normandy._

Alan chose not to acknowledge the question as he had no idea on how much the Dark Warrior knew.

"Answer the question asshole! Attacking a Council Spectre is a serious breach of Citadel law. If I wanted, I could have the whole Citadel fleet hunting you down."

 **"At least it would be a fair fight."**

As he began to spit back his response, Alan's HUD informed him of an incoming transmission on the TEAMCOM. He accepted and was greeted by a familiar voice.

 _"Shepard, this is Garrus. I've got you and that weird looking bastard in my scope. Start moving to the left if you can hear me."_

Alan did his best not to give away any indication that he had been contacted. With Garrus on sniper support, this fight would be a hell of a lot easier.

The platform the two of them were standing on was an intersection for the walkways located just below the Docking Control room. It was roughly shaped into a rectangle about 20 feet wide by 30 feet long, meaning there was plenty of room for Alan to navigate. As instructed, Alan began to slowly strafe to the left in hopes that the Dark Warrior would strafe right.

No luck, the Dark Warrior mimicked Shepard and moved in the same direction.

 _"Damn it, still no shot,"_ he heard Garrus say.

 **"Let's leave your Turian friend out of this shall we?"**

Shepard was glad for his helmet, for this time he could not control the look of surprise that appeared on his face. Somehow the bastard knew!

 _"Uh oh,"_ said Garrus, summarizing his own thoughts on the situation.

Alan quickly cut the TEAMCOM connection. He no longer trusted his comms to be secure. Though this knowledge caught him by surprise, Alan decided that it would be better to play it cool.

"You must have some pretty good hackers to be able to listen in like that," he fished. Alan hoped to catch some info with his bait.

 **"A good guess, but no, I merely sensed his hostile intent."**

The bastard was fucking with him, trying to frustrate him. The obvious answer was of course not to get angry. Problem was, Alan was starting to get angry. He had no patience for this mystical bullshit cover.

 **"I also sense your frustration,"** the Dark Warrior added.

"Uh huh, I'm sure you do."

Shepard's body pulsed with blue energy as he very nearly swallowed the Dark Warrior's bait. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to cross the distance between them with a biotic charge and bathe the bastard in blue fire. But years of discipline and training along with a good amount of common sense held him back.

He reminded himself that CQC had produced good results. No reason to try and repeat it except as a last resort. Keeping things mid to long range would be the better play.

Alan's eyes took quick glances at his surroundings again. Since both of them were standing at the far edges of the platform, that meant there was a good 30 feet between them. That was just out of the effective range of his Crusader's spray, switching to slug shot would fix that problem. He also still had his Carnifex, but immediately dismissed it as an option. He'd seen how useless a pistol had been against this guy, best to stick with the the big guns for now.

 **"An assault rifle would be best,"** suggested the Dark Warrior.

He nearly froze. Alan was now suddenly very conscious of his own thoughts. Switching to his Harrier had been exactly what he had been thinking of doing. It was suited for this kind of range and would allow him to keep continuous fire downrange. But now he was hesitant. Did the Dark Warrior have some sort of a counter? Was he making this suggestion because he also had an assault rifle?

Alan quickly scanned the Dark Warrior and decided that a sword would better fit the Dark Warrior. Though the face piece of his helmet was obviously a stylized skull, the rest of the helmet and armor reminded Shepard of suits of Samurai armor he'd seen in a Japanese museum.

 _Kind of looks like Shredder from TMNT_ Alan noted, having read the comics during his youth. The dark samurai was a perfect analogy.

He also noticed that the Dark Warrior did not carry any visible firearms. The only thing Shepard could see that could potentially be a weapon were the two metal cylinders clipped to the man's belt. Stun baton's perhaps? Plenty of the CAT6 mercenaries had carried collapsible batons capable of delivering high voltages.

If they were indeed batons, Alan thought it an odd choice. No matter how good someone was at CQC it would never be enough to forgo guns. Then again he had firsthand experience with the unnatural speed with which the Dark Warrior could move.

"You still haven't answered my question," Alan pointed out. "Why are you attacking me?"

The Dark Warrior inclined his head. **"Truthfully, we had not planned to ambush you Commander. But you forced our hand when you came to the rescue of Urdnot Wrex."**

"You're Wreav's benefactor."

 **"Indeed, or do you really believe you have so many enemies that more than one would attack you within the span of a few hours?"**

"You'd be surprised."

A mirthless chuckle was uttered by the Dark Warrior, one that sounded more like a growl. Alan was starting to get tired of this man's lording attitude.

"Who do you work for? Cerberus? The Reapers?"

The Dark warrior uncrossed his arms. **"If you defeat me, I'll answer your question."**

Alan flicked his Crusader's firing pattern from single to full-auto. "You asked for it pal."

A door behind him suddenly hissed open. Alan chanced a glance over his shoulder and saw Miranda and Jacob step out onto the walkway. Immediately they spotted Shepard and ran to join him. Alan returned his eyes to the Dark Warrior. Surprisingly he had not moved.

"Good to see you're still in one piece" said Miranda as she and Jacob took position on either side of Alan. Upon seeing the Dark Warrior, Miranda's body began to glow threateningly with biotic power and Jacob leveled his reacquired rifle at him.

At the same time a door behind the Dark Warrior hissed open. A dozen armed newcomers came marching from out of it. All of them were clad in heavy black armor and wore bucket shaped helmets with thin visors. In their hands they carried long boxy rifles unfamiliar to Alan's eyes. Leading them from the front was a familiar face: Sergeant Mills.

"Take position behind the The Lord Wrath!" Mills ordered.

So the Dark Warrior hadn't been lying when he'd asked, Alan could hardly believe it. The man was actually called The Wrath, and apparently he was a lord. That kind of fit with the English accent. Was he perhaps a member of the British nobility back on Earth?

Alan chose to save this line of inquiry for later. The dozen soldiers in black took up positions behind The Wrath, six on his right, and five on his left. Sergeant Mills, who carried his helmet under his arm, marched to stand next to The Wrath.

 **"You're late Captain Tyco."**

Mills, or Tyco as was his real name, lowered his head submissively. "My apologies my lord. Allow me to make amends by eliminating these intruders."

The team of the _Normandy_ tensed in anticipation.

 **"You may kill those two,"** he pointed at Miranda and Jacob. **"The Commander is mine."**

Tyco swiftly donned his helmet and drew another one of those unfamiliar rifles from his back. Together all twelve of the soldiers aimed their weapons at the _Normandy_ team.

"Get behind me!" Alan threw out his hands and a spherical biotic field surrounded the three humans. A moment later Tyco and his men opened fire.

Instead of booming reports followed by tungsten grains propelled at supersonic speeds, their weapon's issued high pitched shrieks followed by brilliant flashes of crimson light. A storm of red bolts fell upon the blue dome. As each bolt struck the dome rippled violently.

"What the fuck!" Jacob's eyes were wide as they reflected the bright crimson lights.

"You have got to be shitting me!" Alan added as he struggled to keep up the dome protecting them.

Laser rifles! Their weapons fired lasers! Honest to god lasers! Real working energy weapons!

"Who the hell are these people?!" Miranda demanded out loud. As usual she did not enjoy being surprised or not understanding something.

Before he could respond, Alan saw The Wrath swipe out a hand. Suddenly, Alan was involuntarily yanked into the air and sent flying into a nearby cargo bay. The Wrath leapt into the air twenty feet and followed right after.

When his body hit the floor, Alan felt the impact soak into his barrier and dissipate into a familiar blue wave. He then rolled to his feet and immediately brought up his Crusader. The Wrath landed a mere moment later.

 **"The distractions are gone. Now we can begin."**

No talking this time. The staccato boom of Alan's Crusader was near deafening as he unleashed a storm of tungsten pellets.

The Lord Wrath calmly held out a hand. The hypervelocity pellets never reached their target. As they approached his open palm, they scattered to hit the walls and floor instead. It was like the very presence of his hand repelled them from going any further. Alan continued to squeeze down on the trigger, hoping to overwhelm whatever defense this was through sheer volume.

But soon the Crusader's alarms screeched in protest and it's VI forcibly ejected the thermal clip. Not wishing to allow any sort of relief, Alan decided to replace the Crusader onto his back and exchange it for the Harrier.

While using the Crusader, Alan had noticed that Lord Wrath had moved his hand in accordance with each individual blast. That most likely meant his defense was personally activated to deal with separate attacks instead of a constant defense that continued without his input.

If this was the case, then The Wrath's earlier words were indeed true. An assault rifle would be best. Of all Alan's weapons it had the highest rate of fire and would thus be the most taxing of The Wrath's defense.

Alan broke into a sprint to the right while at the same time opening up a concentrated stream of bullets upon his opponent. Unexpectedly, The Wrath unclipped one of the cylinders on his belt. Alan nearly tripped when instead of extending into a baton, a blood red blade of pure energy erupted from the cylinder.

"You have got to be fucking kidding me!" Alan protested.

* * *

"Commander!" Jacob's concern for his commanding officer quickly evaporated as the protective dome around them vanished.

"Kill them!" barked Captain Tyco.

"Run!" Miranda grabbed Jacob by the shoulder and all but dragged him along with her.

Behind him Jacob could hear the high pitched shrieks of ionizing air. Flashes of red light crisscrossed the corners of his vision as laser bolts -real live laser bolts!- whizzed by his head, missing by centimeters and singing the hairs on his head.

He paused his step and whirled around to lay down a blanket of suppressive fire. Most of the unknown soldiers ducked under cover, one however took three bullets to the chest and fell to the floor. Jacob silently congratulated himself. Their weapons might have been fancy, but nothing made up for skill.

As he switched targets, Jacob saw a flash of red followed by a horrible burning pain in his right shoulder. He screamed and fell to one knee. The smell of burning flesh, his burning flesh, was ripe in the air. Jacob looked to see a fist sized hole burned through his pauldron.

He turned his gaze back to the unknown soldiers. To his surprise the one holding a smoking barrel was the soldier he had just gunned down a moment ago. The man was completely unharmed.

"Son of a bitch!" With one hand, Jacob pulled out his pistol and emptied his thermal clip into the man's chest. He staggered back a step with each shot, but ultimately the bullets failed to do anything but knock him on his ass.

The soldier stood back up and pointed his rifle at Jacob.

It then dawned on Jacob that since it was an energy weapon, it would go right through his kinetic barriers.

"Shit."

Then a blue orb arced through the air and slammed into the soldier's chest. Where rounds from a pistol and rifle and failed, the warp bolt melted its way through the man's armor and burned into the fleshy meat inside. Finally he fell to the floor with a heavy _thump_ and did not get back up.

Jacob felt pair of strong yet feminine hands drag him up and pull him along.

"When I say run! Run!" ordered Miranda, "we've got to get back to the _Normandy_!"

"But the Commander-"

"The Commander can hold out until we can get reinforcements!"

Jacob wanted to protest but he knew Miranda was right. That Lord Wrath seemed like a tough customer, but if anyone could hold out, it was Commander Shepard.

* * *

A freaking **laser sword!**

Alan would have squealed like a fanboy if it weren't being used against him.

Sword and arm became a blur as The Wrath held his ground and used the red blade to intercept every bullet. Each time the sword made contact with one of the hypervelocity grains of tungsten it disintegrated the bullet with an audible hiss. Alan held down the trigger of his rifle until finally the thermal clip was forcibly ejected, not a single bullet had made its way to the target.

Then The Wrath blurred towards Alan. Even as he continued strafing right, Alan could see that his speed was no match for his opponent's. More than once Alan lost track of where The Wrath was. Before Alan could even comprehend it, he was just a few feet away, red blade drawn back to decapitate.

Instinctively, Alan threw out his arms and channeled his barrier into a Nova. The Wrath quickly abandoned his attack to flip back six meters, avoiding the wave of kinetic energy. Alan finished reloading his rifle. The moment The Wrath's boots touched the ground he was forced to resume blocking a constant stream of tungsten slugs.

This time however the Wrath moved in a blinding zigzag pattern. Just as many of the bullets missed him entirely as were intercepted by his blade. The fight had just escalated and Alan knew he could no longer rely on standard tactics to win. It was time to get creative.

"Let's see how well you swing that glow stick when you can't see!"

Before the crazy space samurai with the laser sword could get any closer, Alan activated his Omni-tool and fired a flash-forged flash grenade. His visor immediately polarized as the miniature explosive detonated, unleashing a burst of blinding light. For good measure, Alan also threw out two flash-forged smoke grenades that filled the area with heavy gray clouds.

Alan's HUD switched to Thermal Vision and The Wrath's glowing red outline appeared just a few meters away.

 _Now you see me._

Alan performed a biotic charge and appeared behind the Wrath.

 _Now you don't._

His Harrier snapped up and he pulled the trigger.

 **"I do not need my eyes to see you Commander."**

The Wrath's red form suddenly whirled around and his laser sword, which was even more red when viewed in thermal, became a massive red blob as it left contrails of heat in its wake while intercepting bullets. Pretty soon The Wrath's entire form had been blurred from view purely from the amount of heat in the air surrounding him.

"Shit!" Alan realized what was happening and he quickly switched off his thermal, just in time to see the tip of a red blade inches away.

Only years of reflex training saved him from having a hole burned through his head. Alan performed a biotic charge backwards, escaping death by a fraction of a second. As he transformed into a blue streak, Alan popped and activated a disk grenade from his belt, leaving it as a "going away" present.

 _Merry Christmas!_

The Wrath kicked it away before it even touched the ground. Then he stretched out his free hand and Alan was **_pulled_** out of his own biotic charge. The Commander could barely contain his surprise.

It was impossible!

It should have been impossible!

But it had happened anyway.

He was then sent flying upwards with a flick of the Wrath's wrist, right towards his own grenade.

Alan threw up a biotic shield just as the grenade exploded. The fire and shockwave washed over the shimmering shield, leaving the Commander blessedly unharmed.

His training screamed in his ears.

 _Control the fight! Don't just react! Attack!_

The Commander came rocketing down from the cloud of smoke like a fiery blue comet. The resulting eruption of kinetic energy that came as his fist struck the floor was strong enough that the supports of the room groaned in protest. Unfortunately The Wrath just stretched out his hand and let the kinetic wave wash over him harmlessly.

Alan immediately shouldered his Harrier again. But as he placed his feet into proper firing position, The Wrath made a deft motion with two fingers. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, the floor tile under Alan's left foot suddenly sank and threw his aim off by a few inches.

It was enough for The Wrath to completely ignore the bullets coming his way and dash across five meters in the blink of an eye. Alan threw himself backwards. There was a flash of red and his Harrier split into two pieces.

"Son of a bitch! That gun was expensive!" He tossed the pieces of his ruined weapon at The Wrath who ignored them and pressed the attack.

Desperately Alan threw himself into a backwards biotic charge.

 **"Not this time."** The Wrath rocketed right after him.

Alan rematerialized only to find The Wrath was even closer now, with that laser sword raised for an overhead cleave. Alan just barely managed to side step in time. For a split second his vision was filled with blinding red light and an unbearable heat washed over him. But then it was gone and Alan countered with a biotically empowered chop to his opponent's throat, which would crush the man's windpipe.

Except the Wrath's freehand came up at the last moment and blocked Alan's strike. He then retaliated with an elbow to Alan's face. Even with his helmet on Alan's head violently snapped back and he was sent stumbling backwards. But The Wrath did not relent. He followed up with a kick to the Commander's chest, which sent him flying back six meters into a nearby pile of crates.

The Wrath snarled. **"Is this it? Is this all that Commander Shepard is? Is this the Storm of Elysium?"**

* * *

 _He hears a woman scream in fear. Alan whirls around and sees that she had huddled protectively with her two companions. Desperately he searches the area, hoping to find the source of their fear before it can hurt them. But then he noticed the direction of their eyes._

 _They were all looking at **him**._

 _They were **scared** of **him.**_

 _Alan could feel his heart jackhammering beneath his chest, threatening to burst out. He could feel the fire coursing through his veins, urging him to find something else to kill. When was the last time he had slept? The last time he ate?_

 _Since the first slavers landed it had been nothing but a constant blur of violence and death._

 _Alan looked down at his hands. They were covered in Batarian blood and gore, he could scarcely recognize them himself. If his hands were this bad, he could only image what the rest of him looked like. No wonder the girl was scared._

 _"I'm..." he started. His voice felt strange after not hearing it for what felt like years. "I'm not going to hurt-"_

 _The woman's head suddenly snapped back. In her eye a meter long harpoon had pierced through her skull. Alan immediately recognized it as the payload of a Kishock sniper rifle._

 _"NO!" one of the woman's friends screams._

 _Alan spun around to find the sniper. Instead what discovered was a dozen more Batarians charging towards him._

 _Suddenly he didn't care that none of them were the sniper._

 _He blamed them all._

 _T_ _hey were all guilty._

 _"How dare you!"_

* * *

In response the mountain of 100 pound steel crates erupted as an ethereal blue explosion erupted. At ground zero, where the floor itself had been cracked, was Commander Shepard. His body was surrounded in a violent aura of biotic fire.

"YOU WANT THE STORM?!" he roared, "HERE IT IS!"

With a furious roar, Commander Shepard stretched his hand out towards one of the larger shipping container. It was fifteen feet long, eight feet wide, and weighed 1 solid metric ton. He raised his hand up and the container rose 10 feet off the ground with a heavy groan.

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE MENTIONED ELYSIUM!" The Storm punched a fist forward and the shipping container was hurled towards The Wrath.

 **"Finally,"** The Wrath whispered.

He calmly leaned slightly to his right and the shipping container missed him by a few inches.

Now the fight had truly begun.

* * *

The run back to the _Normandy_ was a long one for Miranda and Jacob, especially with the latter's injured shoulder. Thankfully they had a guardian angel watching over them.

 _CRACK!_

An angel with a sniper rifle.

One of the soldiers in black behind them stumbled as a hypervelocity sniper round struck him in the chest and knocked him to the ground. Dazed by the sheer strength of the impact, the soldier groggily sat up.

 _CRACK!_

Just in time to take a bullet through the visor. The man slumped into a heap and did not rise again.

"That's another one for me!" Garrus cheered over the TEAMCOM.

With Alan out of sight battling The Wrath, Garrus had focused his attention on covering Miranda and Jacob's retreat. Like Jacob before him, Garrus soon discovered that the armor being worn by the soldiers in black was incredibly durable. He had pumped two shots into one soldier's chest plate, only for him to scramble to cover ten seconds later.

Their helmets were also frustratingly protective, though to a lesser degree. Garrus imagined the plating wasn't as thick so as to lessen the weight. Two shots in the same general area had been enough to crack one of those buckets.

So far the only true weaknesses were the gaps in the armor, the lack of protection on their biceps, and the visors on the helmets. It made putting them down incredibly difficult.

Thankfully Garrus was the self proclaimed "Best shot on the _Normandy"_.

The soldiers in black quickly discovered his danger when he'd killed two of their number. The first with four shots to the same spot on the chest. The second had lead Garrus to his two-shot helmet discovery.

This third one had proven the weakness of their visors.

Now it was time for Garrus to try something new. He activated his weapon's Armor Piercing mod. It meant bigger grains shaved off the ammo block, greater heat buildup, and fewer shots per clip, but it might just be worth it.

Garrus sighted down a soldier who had leaned out of cover to fire at Miranda and Jacob. The Turian's crosshairs settled on the center of mass and smoothly squeezed the trigger.

 _CRACK!_

The soldier fell and started to get back up.

Garrus fired again. This time he saw the soldier jerk violently before slumping boneless to the floor. The AP rounds had worked. Unfortunately they only afforded Garrus two shots per clip. He quickly popped the cherry red thermal clip from his rifle and loaded in a new one.

There were still a lot more soldiers. Possibly more than he could deal with by himself.

"Guys," Garrus said into the TEAMCOM, "I could use a little help here."

Zaeed's voice roared in response.

 _"WE'RE FUCKING BUSY!"_

* * *

"WE'RE FUCKING BUSY!" Zaeed roared back.

Zaeed didn't know what problems Garrus was having, but they weren't important. Because right now he was getting his ass kicked. And what could possibly be more important than a Rastafarian assassin with voodoo powers kicking Zaeed Massani's ass with a fucking glowing stick?!

"EAT THIS!" He screamed as his Revenant LMG boomed inside of the hanger. Zaeed was hosing the assassin down with automatic fire. But the assassin simply spun his red glow stick staff and blocked or dodged all of the incoming slugs. Inevitably Zaeed's weapon exhausted its thermal clip and he was forced to swap it.

But before he could, the assassin stretched out a hand and grabbed Zaeed in an invisible choke hold.

 _Fucking voodoo bullshit!_ Was all Zaeed could think of as unseen hands crushed his throat.

"LEAVE THE OLD ONE ALONE!" Grunt bellowed a war cry and charged with the intent of tearing the assassin apart with his bare hands, for his shotgun had been sliced in half at the beginning of the battle. The assassin released his hold on Zaeed, much to the old man's relief, and executed a jump flip over Grunt's mad charge. As he passed over the young Krogan he swiped down with his glowing staff and struck Grunt across the hump.

"ARGH!" Grunt stumbled forward with another burning wound added to the dozen he had already received from the assassin. Thanks to the glow stick's scorching properties the young Krogan's healing factor wasn't working as well as it could. Half the deck was splattered with his orange blood.

The assassin drew his staff back and prepared to finish Grunt off when he suddenly changed his mind and rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a biotic shockwave.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU!" declared Jack with her usual blood lust and anger.

Without heed to what she might destroy, as usual, Jack cast shockwave after shockwave at the assassin. He in turn gracefully avoided the waves of cascading energy with flips and rolls.

"YOU THINK YOU'RE BAD?! YOU AIN'T BAD! I'M BAD!" howled Jack as she threw out both her hands to unleashed a powerful Push, one too wide for the assassin to avoid. He dug his feet into the deck, deactivated and clipped his glow stick to his belt, then held out a his hands defensively.

The wave blue ghostly fire crashed against the assassin's hands where it was halted against an invisible wall. The resistance caught Jack off guard, who had never once had a problem with overpowering her opponents. With another howl she pushed her hands forward, urging the wave of blue fire on. The assassin in response mimic her actions, forcing the biotic wave back.

Biotic fire and the invisible power wielded by the assassin mixed like oil and water.

Blood began to drip heavily down Jack's nose, a sign that she was overtaxing her powers. But the former criminal was stubborn to a fault and she wasn't about to show weakness.

"I'M...GONNA...BEAT YOU...TILL-" The assassin pushed his hands out again and this time Jack's biotic wave broke, like an ocean wave against the shore it shattered and dissipated. The assassin's strange power then moved to send Jack hurling through the air.

"SON OF A-" Jack's foul mouth was cut off as she crashed into Zaeed.

"I'm gonna ask for a raise," the mercenary grumbled as pushed her off of him.

The assassin mockingly strutted forward, reactivated glow stick humming threateningly in a relaxed position.

"This is the famous crew of the _Normandy_? Pathetic," the assassin spat onto the floor, "even with three of you, there is no challenge."

As usual Jack could not ignore an insult. She wiped the blood from her nose and leapt to her feet. "I'll give you a challenge you fucking piece of shit!"

Zaeed tried stop her. "Wait you crazy bitch!"

Too late.

With a mad howl Jack launched herself through the air, her body glowing with heavy wisps of blue fire. She landed a in front of the assassin and unleashed a flurry of wild haymakers. Jack's punches could crumple solid steel and rip through armor plating, but for all her unquenchable fury she was still more akin to a bar room brawler wielding brass knuckles.

The assassin on the other hand was clearly well trained. He dodged and weaved under Jack's punches with graceful ease, at times he almost seemed to let her get close just to frustrate her.

Finally he retaliated.

As she swung up at his head, he spun around her fist with blinding speed. Then he stabbed the glowing red blade of his staff through the back of her thigh.

Jack screamed as the searing hot blade punched through the fabric of her pants and the muscle of her leg like it were all made of nothing. The assassin sadistically allowed his blade to stay in for a few agonizing moments before ripping it out.

But there was still some fight in Jack. Defiantly she whirled around on her good leg and swung a vicious hook aimed at his chin. He easily avoided it by tilting his head back, then he caught her arm in a lock and broke it.

Jack finally collapsed to the floor, screaming in both anger and pain.

The assassin looked upon her with disgust. "Nothing more than worthless trash."

"I AM NOT FUCKING TRASH!" she screeched.

"And yet you are on the ground, and I..." He moved the scorching blade of his staff under her chin. "Hold your life in my hands."

Jack had always known that her actions would get her killed some day, and on that day she promised herself that she'd face it like the badass she knew was. But despite that promise, when she felt the scorching heat of the assassin's red blade on her skin a tremor of fear flowed through her body. The assassin saw this and gave her a predatory smile, he enjoyed seeing her try to hold down her panic.

"Hey! Bob Marley!" The assassin whirled around to see Zaeed. "Leave the kid alone!"

The mercenary fired a volley of three concussive shots. As expected the assassin dealt with them easily, redirecting the first two away and absorbing the explosive impact of the third with an invisible shield. Zaeed's volley had done nothing, but that was okay. It had just been a distraction.

"Jack now!"

Howling bloody fury, Jack threw out her arms and launched the assassin across the room with a biotic push. Caught off guard, he tumbled across the floor, deactivating his staff as he rolled, right into the waiting arms of Grunt.

"Hahahaha!" the Krogan cheered.

He scooped the assassin up off the deck and viciously slammed him against the wall. With just a flex of his muscles Grunt could snap the human in two. But then there was a flash of red, followed by a hiss, and suddenly the assassin was free.

"AAARGH!" Grunt screamed in pain and stumbled away from the assassin, with both of his arms having been reduced to smoldering stumps.

Zaeed fired a concentrated stream at the assassin, but it was a delaying tactic more than anything else. They'd thrown everything they had at this bastard and still none of it took. Damn it, they needed help! Then his Revenant ejected its thermal clip with an ominous _ping!_

"Shit." Time was up.

The assassin's smile told that he knew it too.

With an animal like roar, the assassin dashed forward and struck to cut Zaeed in half. But just before the red blade could slash its way through Zaeed's waist, the assassin was surrounded in a blue corona and hurled to the edge of the hanger. Upon realizing that he had not been split in two, Zaeed exhaled heavily in relief.

"Jesus fucking christ I need a beer," he grumbled, wiping sweat from his brow.

"I suspect that there will be time for that later." Samara walked up beside him, her shapely form pulsed with blue fire. She was the most beautiful thing Zaeed had seen all day.

"God, I could kiss your sweet Asari ass right now Samara."

"I'm afraid I'll have to decline," the Justicar responded without batting an eye. "Right now I must focus my attention on this assassin, and you must get Jack and Grunt to Mordin."

She was right. Both the Krogan and the psycho bitch were in bad shape. Jack couldn't walk and Grunt had no hands, as usual Zaeed had somehow avoided any injury, save a knife through the hand.

"Think you can handle him until I get back?"

Suddenly Thane appeared out of nowhere, causing Zaeed to nearly jump. The Drell pulled back the slide of his pistol.

"We'll be fine," he said. "Go!"

Zaeed scooped up Jack and carried her fireman style over his shoulder. Grunt, who was too heavy to carry anyway, deigned to walk on his own.

"Good luck," he said before the three disappeared through the maintenance exit.

By then the assassin had jumped to his feet and cautiously walked towards his two new opponents. Carefully he observed both of them.

"Ah, perhaps this shall provide the challenge I seek!" The assassin spun his staff and smiled hungrily. "The mournful assassin." He pointed at Thane. "And the Justicar who murders her own daughters." He pointed to Samara. "Your prowess for combat is well known."

"Reputation can only tell you so much," Thane said evenly.

"Let us give you a proper demonstration," Samara's aura became like a bonfire of ethereal blue power. Gracefully she cast out a single hand and unleashed a volley of six blue orbs.

The assassin laughed with joy as he dodged all of them.

* * *

The inside of the cargo bay that was the site of the battle between the Commander and The Wrath resembled the eye of a tornado. Debris, cargo containers, and machinery were being tossed back and forth in a duel of telekinetic powers.

Alan curled his hand into a fist, seizing another 1 ton container in his biotic grip. With a vicious roar he hurled it through the air, sending it flying like a airtruck towards his opponent.

The Wrath calmly stretched out his left hand towards the incoming heavy container. In an almost peaceful manner the container came to a quiet stop just a meter from his palm. By pointing his laser sword, The Wrath dislodged another heavy container Commander Shepard had thrown which had buried itself in the wall.

He then threw his hand forward and sent both heavy containers arcing towards Alan. Unfortunately the Commander did not have the power to catch and stop both containers like The Wrath had. Instead when the containers came within a a few meters of crushing him, the Commander erupted in a massive Nova. The kinetic wave deflected both containers, bending the metal frames and redirecting them so that they came to a crash behind him.

 **"This is some what disappointing,"** The Wrath commented rather passively. **"The stories of Elysium made you out to be so much more."**

"Shut up!" Alan shot back.

The Commander drew back his fist as if preparing to punch. He held it back as it began to pulse violently with blue fire. The flames became stronger and violent as he channeled more and more power into his fist. Finally he pumped it out, releasing it all into a single Shockwave.

The speed of it was comparable to a speeding aircar, easily 60 mph. The size of its gravity pulses were easily three times the size of the average, with each pulse having at least a radius of 6 meters. To The Wrath who was staring down this biotic monstrosity, it was like having a biotic freight train racing towards him.

In response The Wrath brought up his free hand and caught the Shockwave in his palm. Though it had been stopped the Shockwave did not lose it's energy and it continued to send out gravity pulses while stalled. The Wrath swiped his hand to the side and released the Shockwave out of the cargo bay where it continued on to rip apart several steel catwalks.

As The Wrath finished redirecting Alan's Shockwave, he suddenly realized that the Commander was no longer in front of him. A fiery blue streak to his right revealed that Alan had performed a biotic charge. At the same time The Wrath noticed a disk grenade at his feet, slipped there while he was dealing with the Shockwave.

Instinctively The Wrath dashed backwards...right into Alan's waiting fist.

It soon became clear that the monstrous Shockwave had never been meant as an attack, but as a distraction. The grenade had then been used as a corralling tool, forcing The Wrath to move. And Alan was the final step.

He swung his fist, wreathed in blue fire, at the back of The Wrath's helmeted head.

Against anyone else Alan's armored hand would have completely pulped their skull. But his opponent was not just anyone else. Suddenly The Wrath dug his heel into the floor and spun himself around. He caught Alan's fist just like he caught the Shockwave.

Alan rolled with the minor defeat and brought up his shotgun, his finger already squeezing the trigger. The Crusader would have stitched craters up The Wrath's chest, but at the last second he twisted Alan's fist, throwing off the Commander's aim so that the Crusader discharged harmlessly into the air.

 **"Surely you can do better,"** The Wrath said. He then brought up his red blade up in a horizontal slash.

Alan quickly ripped his fist from The Wrath's grip and used his biotics to propel himself backwards. He was fast enough to escape being cut in half, but not fast enough to prevent the red blade from carving a thin line across his breastplate. A lightning fast back hand strike nearly decapitated Alan, but he managed to dodge under and escape away.

 _Gotta get out of range of that laser sword!_

He fired a few shots from his Crusader, all of which were easily blocked by The Wrath. But their purpose was to distract, allowing Alan to teleport backwards. With six meters between them, Alan thought that, at least for the moment, he was safe to come up with a new plan.

That theory was proven very, very, wrong when The Wrath suddenly threw his laser sword at Alan. The red blade spun through the air like a deadly red fan with deadly accuracy. Alan was so surprised that he barely had time to throw himself out of its trajectory. His hesitation cost him as the blade managed to score a shallow cut along his pauldron.

But he soon forgot the searing pain in his shoulder.

 _He's defenseless now!_ Alan almost burst out laughing at The Wrath's tactical faux pas. What kind of idiot threw a melee weapon?

Unexpectedly The Wrath charged towards at Alan. Surprised but not caught off guard, Alan fired off two shots in a wide sweeping arc. The shots hit nothing as The Wrath leapt over the sprays of tungsten pellets.

A violent hum suddenly filled Alan's left ear. The laser sword that had been thrown flew over his shoulder and returned to its owner's hand like a boomerang. The Wrath dashed forward with his reacquired weapon and drove the blade forward.

 _Shit!_

Alan attempted to throw himself back, but proved to slow. The humming red blade pierced through the abdominal plates and pain exploded inside of his side. Luckily he had escaped far enough that the blade's entrance was a shallow one, perhaps just an inch deep.

He pulled away and tried to buy himself some time by letting loose a few biotic shockwaves in hopes of waving off his opponent. But The Wrath's blade had tasted blood now and it wanted more. With a hungry growl, he easily maneuvered around the cascading pulses of gravity and dashed forward.

Alan fired his Crusader, not bothering to aim for at this range he could not possibly miss. But a slight twitch of The Wrath's fingers redirected the barrel to the side so that the spray of pellets hit only floor.

The Wrath made a deft thrust, and his blade pierced through Alan's right thigh.

His mobility was now compromised. But even through the burning pain, he refused to give up. Defiantly he threw a punch up at The Wrath. Surprisingly it landed, impacting the solid wall of muscle and armor that was The Wrath's chest. The punch had been a weak one and Alan doubted he had felt anything.

 _Heh, at least I finally landed a hit._

The Wrath grabbed Alan by the throat, lifted him up, and slammed him into the floor. Pinned, he could only watch as The Wrath drew back his red blade.

 **"Disappointing,"** said The Wrath.

The tip of the blade descended upon him, and Alan knew he was dead.

* * *

 _CODEX: SITH EMPIRE: NOTABLE POSITIONS: THE EMPEROR'S WRATH_

 _The Emperor's Wrath, The Lord Wrath, or The Wrath, was a position created by the former Emperor of the Sith, **Darth Vitiate**. The position under the reign of Vitiate was one of a personal enforcer and executioner for the Emperor. The Wrath at the time was a Pureblood by the title of **Lord Scourge**. Scourge took orders only from the Vitiate himself and was given full autonomy to accomplish his tasks._

 _At some point between the transition of Emperor from Darth Vitiate to **Darth Revan** , the position of Emperor's Wrath was vacated by Scourge. Whether this is because he was dismissed or died is unknown. What is known is that the former apprentice of Dark Council member, **Darth Baras** , was appointed to the position of Wrath afterwards._

 _Under Emperor Revan's rule, the duties of The Wrath were expanded considerably. In addition to being a personal enforcer and executioner, The Wrath began to operate as Commander in Chief of the Empire's armies. The new Wrath, whose true name remains a secret, has performed these new duties masterfully, having personally led the forces of the Empire to victory on numerous accounts._

 _Interesting Notes:_

 _-The current Lord Wrath and Emperor Revan are considered the Empire's foremost lightsaber duelist. However, both Emperor Revan and The Wrath himself have refused to comment on which of them possess superior skill._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hello everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**

 **I did my best to make the fights between Shepard and The Wrath not a complete curbstomp but at the same time show that that The Wrath had the upper hand.**

 **Some of you might be wondering why The Wrath hasn't cut Shepard's head off already, well there's a reason for that and I will reveal it to you in good time.**

 **I hope you also enjoyed Zhaff vs Zaeed, Grunt, and Jack. He's having a bit of trouble with them but the real fight is going to be Zhaff vs Samra and Thane, look forward to that next chapter.**

 **But of course everyone wants to talk about: GARRUS SNIPER RIFLE vs IMPERIAL ARMOR.**

 **I'm going to level with you right now. I did a lot of research trying to figure out what amount of punishment Star wars armor could take. Unfortunately as many of you know, Star Wars technology often defies the laws of reality and thus there is not a lot of concrete stuff to pull from.**

 **That being said, the fact that everyone in the SWTOR uses blasters, even civilians, should be enough to say that projectile weapons are fairly obsolete. That means that armor has progressed to a point that projectiles can no longer reliably penetrate standard armor.**

 **BUT! The Mass Effect universe has very special projectile weapons, which use special technology to propel bullets at incredible speeds.**

 **Plus, SWTOR takes place thousands of years before the movies, which means technology isn't as great. In plenty of source material there are instances where Storm Trooper armor, which is practically invulnerable to projectiles, is penetrated by slug throwers. Usually these slug throwers are using AP rounds or are fired from close distances.**

 **I therefore make the decision to follow the same rules. Imperial armor in this story will be fairly resistant, but only TO A POINT.**

 **Also, if every Imperial soldier was completely immune to damage, then this story would get very boring very quickly.**

 **Okay, explanation over.**

 **Please review and tell me what you thought of this chapter! Also tell me if there are any CODEX entries you'd like to see next time.**

 **Bye!**


	7. Chapter 4: Know My Enemy, Part 2

**Star Wars is owned by LucasArts and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and Bioware.**

 _ **WarZoneN7** : Thank you! I give my all to fight scenes._

 _ **andrei666999666** : I'm glad to hear that, you'll get some more of that here._

 _ **Guest** : Something like that might happen in the future. Stick around some more and you'll see it happen._

 _ **RabidArmenian** : WOOT CHISS AND TWI'LEK GIRLS! On a normal term, I too have read about that with Reapers and Force users. It's an interesting concept and one that I might utilize. Don't worry about overrunning the galaxy, I intend for this to be a drawn out conflict and one that is not one sided. The Sith will get their challenge. Also, who says the Wrath hasn't gotten laid before? ;)_

 _ **pedrorocamora102** : I'm glad to see that you're enjoying yourself. That's definitely a possibility._

 _ **Guest 2** : It'll definitely be interesting to write for me. You don't have to worry about the ysalamiri. I've always thought that they were contradictory to what we know about the Force._

 _ **Old one Griffin** : The Consular isn't going to show back up for a bit. I want to focus on Shepard right now and how he deals with this new threat. I'm glad that you're enjoying the story._

 _ **muratira** : Thank you for your thoughts and review. I like to think that at this point Shepard is well trained enough that even when he gives into rage he still has a tactical mind, kind of like the Wrath himself actually. Can't do a CODEX on Revan, cause that would be spoilers, but a CODEX on the Empire might be doable._

 _For any of you looking for an interesting read, I suggest you go check out the work of the author: **IgnusDei**. He's the writer of the masterpiece crossover story **Mass Effect: Human Revolution** , which has been a big influencer on my writing Mass Effect: SotS. He's also currently writing a Star Wars and Shadowrun crossover called **Star Wars: Through the Shadow and Flames**. I suggest you go check it out, it's got an interesting premise._

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of The Sith**

 **Chapter 4 – Know My Enemy, Part 2**

* * *

Zaeed had taken Grunt and Jack up to Mordin as quickly as he could. Once he confirmed with the Salarian professor that the two would be fine, he raced back down to the hanger with the intent of paying the assassin back for his pound of flesh. But upon arriving back in the hanger, Zaeed was no longer sure he was going to be able to do that.

The fight he saw before him was some of the most graceful and fast paced melee combat he had ever seen in his life. The three combatants engaged in a beautiful deadly dance were in constant motion. Their feet never stayed still and their bodies kept bending at angles that made Zaeed's back ache.

The assassin was like cat. He kept pouncing all over the damn place while spinning his glow stick in deadly arcs or launching kicks with his feet. All the while he kept snarling with undisguised glee. The bastard was enjoying himself.

Thane flowed like water, each of his movements easily transitioned into the next, and then the next, and then the next, as though the whole thing had been choreographed from the start. The Drell employed some sort of gun-kata that was a combination of his excellent aim with a pistol and biotic martial arts.

Samara as always moved like a ballerina and struck like a storm. Just like her Drell partner she moved with fluidity and speed. But instead of using a weapon she was entirely reliant on her biotics and Asari martial arts. Every movement translated into use for her biotics. Every sweep of her hand sent out another bolt of blue fire at the assassin. Every step served to propel herself into a blue streak.

Watching the Asari Justicar work was a thing of beauty.

It made Zaeed hard.

But unfortunately there wasn't time for him to watch the Justicar dance around in her skintight suit. While they were putting up an excellent fight, the assassin was still holding strong. Zaeed knew that if he let this play out, the three of them could continue the dance for a long time.

He had to tip the odds further in their favor.

An idea formed in the mercenary's mind. As silent as he could, Zaeed hugged the right wall of the hangar and quickly made his way towards the front of the ship. There he found exactly what he was looking for: the boarding ramp controls.

Before long the _Normandy_ hangar was filled with light from the outside as its boarding ramp began to lower.

The three combatants paused their furious dance momentarily to observe this new development. Thane and Samara understood Zaeed's plan immediately. Without a word exchanged between them, the two aliens immediately threw out their palms and unleashed a barrage of biotic attacks.

Thane fired precise and narrow Warp bolts that arced through the air with incredible speed, almost like a Biotic bullet. Samara was much more varied, she threw out Shockwaves, Warps, and Pushes in rapid succession. The sheer weight of their combined attacks served to slowly drive the assassin back towards the boarding ramp.

Not wishing to be left out of the fight any longer, Zaeed pulled off from his back the M-100 Grenade launcher, which he had picked up on his way down. Moving to stand by Samara's side, Zaeed aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger twice. Twin explosives arced across the hangar and detonated at the assassin's feet.

An invisible shield absorbed the explosion but forced the assassin to backtrack even further as the biotic onslaught continued.

Soon the assassin had been pushed out onto the boarding ramp and now stood just one step away from hundreds of feet to the bottom of the station's docks.

Seeing her opportunity, Samara erupted with pulsing blue fire and her eyes glowed an ethereal white. "Feel the wrath of the Goddess!"

The assassin smiled humorlessly.

"I only know one Wrath," he said.

Samara threw out her palms and a titanic wave of Dark Energy rushed out towards the assassin. He in turn threw up his hands and the wave stalled, but only briefly. Zaeed caught the look of pure shock when the assassin realized he had underestimated the power of the Justicar, just before he was hurled from the boarding ramp.

The assassin roared in defiant rage as he fell. Zaeed chanced a quick look over the edge of the boarding ramp and saw that the assassin had disappeared. Whether he had some how escaped or had simply fallen out of sight Zaeed did not know. The mercenary was just glad to know that the assassin was gone.

Warily he walked back into the hangar. "You think we have time to get a drink?"

Suddenly the _Normandy_ shuddered. Zaeed heard the distinct sounds of the engines coming online and the repulsors warming up. The ship was taking off.

"What the fuck?" Zaeed touched a finger to his comm-bead. "Joker, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

 _"Just got orders to take off,"_ replied the pilot.

"From who?"

"From me." Miranda, followed by Jacob, Garrus, Tali, Mordin, Legion, and a limping Jack, walked out from the back of the hangar.

Zaeed shook his head when he saw that Jack had her broken arm in an Omni-gel cast, but decided not to voice his disapproval. "About time you all showed up. Where the fuck were you while we were getting attacked by Bob Marley?"

"We were busy," Miranda replied simply.

"Where is the Commander?" asked Thane.

"That's why we're taking off. We're going to save him."

* * *

The tip of the blade descended upon him, and Alan knew he was dead.

But damned if he was just going to lie down and let death take him.

Alan's biotically empowered fist slammed into the hard metal flooring beneath them and it groaned in protest. With his awkward positioning there hadn't been much room to do any real damage beyond a shallow dent. But it had been just enough. The trajectory of the blade was thrown off and instead of spearing through Alan's head, it buried itself into the ground next to his head.

The realization that he was alive coursed through his veins like lightning. Alan immediately activated his Omnni-tool and fired a flash-forged flash grenade. The Wrath released the grasp on his throat and caught the miniature grenade. It detonated harmlessly a moment later, it's blinding light consumed inside The Wrath's palm.

Now free, Alan delivered the sole of his armored boot to The Wrath's chest. This time his strike was solid and though not empowered with biotics, the kick sent The Wrath flying back a full five meters.

Like a cat The Wrath landed perfectly on his feet and snarled in annoyance.

Emboldened from escaping death and landing his first true hit on his opponent, Alan pulsed with fiery blue energy.

"Still disappointed?!" With a roar Alan initiated a biotic charge. Despite the burning hole in his leg and abdomen, he shot towards The Wrath like a ghostly blue, leaving a crackling blue streak in his wake.

 **"Yes."**

Alan's trajectory was suddenly redirected downwards, into the floor. He slammed face first into the ground only a few feet away from The Wrath.

As he tried to rise to one knee an invisible force threw him back down. Reflexively he caught himself, but even as he fought to remain upright the pressure on his back increased, straining his muscles till they burned.

Barely holding himself up on his hands and knees, Alan managed to raise his head just enough to allow himself to look up at The Wrath.

 **"This is the best humanity has to offer in this galaxy? This is the Hero of the Citadel?"**

The Wrath lowered his outstretched hand just a an inch and suddenly it felt like a truck had been dropped down onto Alan's back. Desperately he called upon his biotics to aid him, to lighten the pressure threatening to crush him into the ground. But whatever power The Wrath employed was beyond the mass altering properties of biotics, for nothing Alan did eased his burden.

Then as quickly as it had come, the weight was lifted.

 **"You're nothing more than a overconfident child, convinced that your path is noble and just."**

Alan reacted immediately by coming up to one knee and bringing up his Crusader. But before he could pull the trigger, The Wrath's foot snapped out and kicked the shotgun out of his hands.

Instinctively he reached for his sidearm, then the weight suddenly returned and Alan was smashed flat into the ground.

 **"How very much like the Jedi you are."**

 _What_ _the fuck is a Jedi?_ Alan thought to himself.

 **"You're just like every other so called 'hero': weak and pathetic without the aid of your so called friends."**

"Are you...gonna just...talk me to death?" Alan spat as he weakly rose to his elbows.

His remark earned him a kick to the ribs that emptied his lungs of air.

 **"You think you are courageous?"**

Another kick, this one rolled Alan onto his back.

 **"You think you are strong?"**

The Wrath stomped on his injured thigh, forcing Alan to stifle a cry of pain.

 **"You are neither."**

The red blade descended and pierced through his shoulder. Alan clenched his teeth but could not help letting out a pained growl.

 **"You have merely forgotten the fear of facing the galaxy alone."**

The Wrath yanked his blade out and placed his boot on Alan's chest.

 **"I shall remind you."**

Through the burning pain, the hum of The Wrath's weapon, and the sound of his own hammering heart beat, Alan's ears picked up a faint yet pleasantly familiar sound. A weak smile touched his lips. The Wrath seemed to sense this and cocked his head back inquisitively.

Like a shark on the hunt, the _Normandy_ slowly hovered into view outside of cargo hold.

 _"Attention Shredder knock off!"_ Joker's voice boomed from the _Normandy. "Step away from the Commander and the pissed off team of badasses in our hanger won't turn you into a mushy paste with their big guns!"_

The _Normandy's_ hanger ramp had been lowered, revealing the entirety of Alan's team pointing their weapons at The Wrath. But instead of the fear one usually displayed when faced with a heavy frigate on foot, Alan got the distinct impression that The Wrath was smiling behind his mask.

 **"So Zhaff failed to kill your crew."** The Wrath's voice was monotone. **"Good, I prefer to fulfill my promise personally."**

The Wrath lifted his foot off of Alan's chest and then swiped his hand towards the _Normandy,_ launching Alan towards his ship's open hanger. Samara caught the airborne Alan with her biotics and gently eased him down onto the deck.

Upon seeing his injuries, Mordin immediately rushed to Alan's side. "Lacerations. Cracked bones. Torn muscles. Wounds consistent with those sustained by Grunt."

Alan pushed Mordin away. "I'm fine!" With some struggling he managed to stand.

Every member of the _Normandy's_ team kept their weapons aimed at The Wrath, who stoically continued to wait for them to make the first move. The sight of him so unaffected by the sight confronting was enough to make a few members of the _Normandy_ a bit cautious.

"Wrath!" Alan called out as loud as he could. "It's over! You're outnumbered and outgunned! Put your weapons down, surrender, and I promise you'll be treated fairly!"

 **"I will consider your kind offer...as soon as I actually feel threatened."**

This man was insane, he had to be. Still, insane or not he could provide a wealth of information on what was happening on Tuchanka. Taking The Wrath alive would be a good move. But it wouldn't be a smart move, and after being tossed around by The Wrath, Alan's mercy had just about reached its limit.

"If that's the way you want it, fine. TAKE THAT BASTARD DOWN!"

Garrus, Tali, Legion, and Zaeed opened fire with their weapons. Samara and Jack unleashed a storm of biotic attacks. While Miranda, Jacob, and Thane attacked with a combination of both.

It should have been enough. But it wasn't.

From his belt The Wrath unclipped a second cylinder and revealed a second red blade. With his twin weapons, The Wrath skillfully intercepted every bullet that came his way. When the barrage of warp bolts from Samara and Jack reached The Wrath turned into blur of grey and red that gracefully dodged each biotic missile.

"Fucking stay still you fuck!" cursed Jack as she let loose another Warp.

"Where'd he go? Where'd he go?!" cried Tali who was having the most trouble trying to keep track.

"Keep pouring it on! He can't keep it up forever!" Zaeed shouted as he leveled the M-100 grenade launcher and let loose a volley of grenades. That turned out to be a big mistake, as The Wrath paused momentarily to redirect **all** of the grenades right back into the hanger.

"INCOMING!" screamed Miranda.

Ever on guard, Samara immediately threw up a Barrier large enough to cover the entire ramp. The grenades struck the shimmering dome and their explosion washed around it, leaving its occupants unharmed.

"Do you want to throw some of your Inferno grenades too old man?" Jack spat mockingly.

"Fuck off and keep casting your space magic!" Zaeed tossed the useless launcher onto the deck and returned to his Revenant.

Samara lowered her barrier and the crew continued their assault.

* * *

 _"Shields at 99%...recharging...100%."_

"You don't need to tell me that EDI," said Joker, "those were just some grenades, he's going to have to hit the _Normandy_ with something way bigger if he wants to do any real damage."

* * *

Though the crew continued to try, they simply could not break through The Wrath's impenetrable defense and blinding agility.

Then he started striking back.

With a conducting swipe of one of his left blade The Wrath sent five heavy shipping containers, all weighing a metric ton, soaring towards the _Normandy_ hanger.

"Keelah!" screeched Tali, as one of the containers missed its mark and struck the _Normandy's_ hull, triggering the Cyclonic shields.

"Scatter!" Alan barked.

The crew did exactly that as the rest of the rectangular missiles crashed into their midst, threatening to pancake all of them under their weight. While they ceased their attempts at offense, The Wrath hurled both of his blades at the _Normandy_ and telekinetically guided them to slash across the ship's bow.

Thankfully the _Normandy's_ Silaris armor was designed to withstand the tremendous heat and kinetic energy of starship weapons. As a result the Wrath's swords failed to cut all the way through. Even so, the red blades of energy cut angry wounds under the cockpit.

* * *

Alarms screeched in Joker's ear and his vision became filled with red warning lights.

 _"Alert! Damage has been sustained to the Normandy's bow. Hull armor integrity at 97%!"_ announced EDI.

Joker's screen highlighted the exact section that had been damaged.

"What?! I thought we upgraded our armor! He shouldn't even be able to dent us! What the hell did he throw at us?"

 _"His swords,"_ EDI answered plainly.

"EDI! Now is seriously not the time for jokes!"

* * *

One of the heavy shipping containers came to a screeching halt in front of Alan's outstretched hand. Blood ran freely from his nose, an indicator that he was beginning to overuse his biotics. Mordin immediately came rushing over and scanned him, a sigh from the Salarian told Alan all he needed to know.

"Recommend-"

"Later," Alan cut him off. "Right now we've got bigger problems."

To their right, Samara repelled two more containers with her biotics. The power of her biotics was impressive as always. But as the Justicar launched the two heavy containers out of the hanger bay, a humming blur of gray and red flew inside.

The Wrath landed on the hanger deck soundlessly in a low crouch.

At first he remained still, head lowered, with the red blades in his hands humming ominously. Then he rose and began to move with overwhelming predatory intent. His hungry black eyes locked with Alan's and sent a chill down the Commander's spine.

"Shoot him!" Alan drew his Carnifex and fired as rapidly as his finger would allow. The Wrath easily blocked the tungsten slugs with his blades and then telekinetically launched Alan towards the back of the hangar where he crashed into the hood of a Kodiak shuttle.

Upon seeing their Commander flung through the air the rest of the team promptly attacked and The Wrath became a blur of red and gray.

Bullets were either intercepted by his swords or avoided entirely, often the _Normandy_ team found themselves shooting at afterimages instead of the real thing. Tech attacks were just as useless as The Wrath was always long gone by the time a flash forged projectile was launched. Biotics proved useful in corralling and stalling him, but any offensive attempts were dodged with frustrating ease.

Despite the multitude of bullets, tech projectiles, and biotic attacks assaulting him The Wrath quickly closed the distance between himself and his prey. Like a predator, The Wrath had sensed the weakest of the herd and shot right towards them.

Tali suddenly found herself staring into a pair cold dark lenses. Fear overwhelmed her senses and she instinctively activated her favored Omni-tool app.

"Get him Chakita!" But one of The Wrath's humming blade swiped out and destroyed her faithful combat drone before it could fully form. Tali barely had time to process Chakita's 'death' when The Wrath's hand shot forward. Panic erupted inside Tali, then it became relief when she realized that instead of skewering her with his blade, The Wrath had simply touched a single finger to her faceplate.

But the panic returned when a single crack appeared on her faceplate, originating from the tip of The Wrath's finger. Suddenly her entire faceplate simply shattered, leaving her completely exposed to the elements. Reflexively she gasped in terror, filling her lungs with thousands of foreign bacteria.

Tali dropped to her knees and began to cough violently as the infection of the outside world began to affect her system.

 **"Away little mouse, this is between the lions and wolves,"** The Wrath paused to say.

"Get away from her!" Garrus launched an Overload tech-grenade from his Omni-tool. Legion joined him by doing the same, while Mordin fired off an Incinerate. The Wrath dodged the first two and deflected the third. The glob of high explosive incendiary gel seemed to freeze midair for a brief moment before bouncing back and striking Mordin in the chest, detonating, and knocking the Salarian onto his back in a fiery heap.

"Mordin!"

* * *

The organic known as Garrus Vakarian had illogically stood idle for exactly **6** **.57** seconds upon witnessing the organic Mordin Solus being hit by his own Incineration.

That added to the **1.79** seconds it took for Garrus Vakarian to activate his Omni-tool, the **1.62** seconds it took him to find his Cryoblast app, and the **2.03** seconds it took him to aim and fire a shot of cryogenic chemicals to douse the incendiary properties of the plasma shot, meant that Mordin Solus burned for approximately **12** **.01** seconds.

The 33 programs inside the platform designated Legion recorded and filed this pause in action as an example of "bewilderment". It would add to their study of organic behavior. Another 210 programs busied their run times with the studying their recording of the Incineration being deflected. The remaining 940 programs attempted to cover Garrus Vakarian by directing their runtimes towards firing a steady stream of phasic slugs from their Geth Pulse Rifle at the incoming hostile wielding a pair of swords.

Once the first slug was intercepted by a humming blade, all 1,183 of its programs rerouted their run times to observing The Wrath as he blocked or dodged ever single shot fired from their rifle. Then The Wrath began to move and the programs found that they needed to reacquire the target.

 _Target Acquired - Range 6.21 Meters - Firing_

The Wrath slid under the concentrated stream of phasic slugs and the target was lost.

 _Target Acquired - Range 5.33 Meters - Firing - Target Lost_

 _Target Acquired - Range 4.09 Meters - Firing - Target Lost_

 _Target Acquired - Range 2.11 - ALERT! TARGET RANGE DANGER CLOSE! REDIRECT PROCESSES TOWARDS EVASI-_

The programs inside Legion had their processes interrupted when The Wrath's humming red blade sliced through the Geth platform's midsection, separating it into two pieces.

The last thing Legion's audio receptors heard was The Wrath's words.

 **"Nothing more than a droid."**

* * *

"Legion!" White fluid spilled onto the deck as the two pieces of the Geth platform clattered to the deck. Garrus cursed himself for getting distracted, even though it had been out of concern for a friend.

"Motherfucker! That's our robot!" Jack threw out her palms and unleashed a heavy Biotic Shockwave. The Wrath leaped over it and then retaliated by telekinetically slamming Jack, Miranda, Zaeed, and Jacob up against the hanger wall.

Garrus tried to take this moment to shoot the sword wielding bastard in the back of the head with his Vindicator. But the five round burst hit only air and suddenly there was a horrible burning pain in his shoulder.

His eyes readjusted just in time to see The Wrath moving towards Samara and Thane, showing his backside to Garrus once again. Why was he going away? Didn't he realize that he's exposing a weakness? Garrus chose not to, as human's would say, look a gift horse in the mouth and tried to aim his Vindicator.

Except his right arm wouldn't respond and the shoulder for that same arm was still hurting for some reason. Garrus looked down and saw the reason for both problems: his arm was gone.

He looked down further and saw his arm lying on the deck, talons still curled around the grip of his Vindicator, a smoking stub where it should have been connected to his shoulder.

"What?" Was all Garrus could say, before the true realization hit him and he screamed.

* * *

Despite a hole in her leg, aching muscles, and a pounding headache, Jack was the first to recover from being slammed against the hangar wall. She was also the first to see The Wrath rushing towards them.

Jack wasn't afraid of anything.

At least that was what she told herself.

Whenever she felt anything remotely resembling fear, she had three go to responses: find someone to fuck, find something to drink, or find somebody to kill.

The first wasn't a great plan when someone was about to murder you (Jack knew from experience), the second wouldn't work cause she didn't have any booze on her, but the third though seemed like a pretty good idea.

"I...WILL DESTROY YOU!" Jack threw out her hands and sent a Biotic Shockwave rippling towards the incoming blur of gray and red. At the time from behind The Wrath, Samara pumped her hand three times and sent a volley of blue Warp orbs arcing towards his flank.

Trapped between two powerful biotic attacks, The Wrath would be torn apart to the molecular level.

Jack's Biotic Shockwave reached him first. When it did, The Wrath spun himself to the side and the Shockwave continued on to meet Samara's three Warp bolts. The two Biotic constructs crashed together and detonated in an explosion of blue fire. The ghostly blue light was bright enough that everyone looking at it instinctually averted their eyes.

The Wrath took those few moments of invisibility to close in on Jack. When she opened her eyes, her heart nearly leapt out from between her breasts upon seeing that The Wrath was already thrusting a single blade towards her.

"Look out!" Jacob, ever loyal to the crew, shoved Jack to the side at the last moment. Death spared her and took him instead.

Jack could only watch from the floor in silent horror as The Wrath's red blade pierced through Jacob armor like it was made of paper and buried itself through him to the hilt.

Jacob let out a gasp of pain and stared, first at the burning red blade in his chest and then up at the soulless black eyes of his murderer.

 **"It won't make a difference,"** The Wrath informed him.

"JACOB!" Miranda screeched.

"Son of a bitch!" Zaeed roared to his feet and fired his sidearm twice, having lost his Revenant.

The Wrath easily blocked both shots and then hurled Jacob off of his sword and into Zaeed, sending both of them crashing to the floor.

Miranda shrieked in horrible fury, the anguish in her voice was amplified by the echo of the hangar. Blue fire bloomed in her hands and she hurled two orbs at The Wrath. They crashed against an invisible bubble, just like last time, leaving him unharmed.

 **"Is that all the power your anger can give you?"** The Wrath's mocking was enhanced by curious tilt of his head.

Without answering, Miranda threw out her palms. Seeing an opportunity, Jack rose to her feet and did the same.

Like a pair of clapping hands, the two rolling waves of dark energy threatened to sandwich The Wrath between them. He reacted immediately by holding out his own hands and stretching out two fingers from both of them. Almost immediately both waves came to a halt and both Miranda and Jack strained themselves to push forward.

 **"Pathetic."** The Wrath lightly pushed back in both directions. Jack was hurled towards the back of the hangar and crashed into the same Kodiak that the Commander had, while Miranda was sent flying upwards. She struck the hangar ceiling full force and fell back to the deck unconscious.

"Demon!" Samara spoke with cold fury, "face me!"

The Wrath ominously turned to look over his shoulder at the Asari Justicar and the Drell assassin at her side. With a primal snarl, he dashed towards them.

* * *

Alan's vision swam as he struggled to recover and stand back up. But between the pain of his own injuries, the fatigue from using so much of his biotics, and being smashed against the hood of a Kodiak hard enough to leave a sizeable dent, he wasn't so sure he could recover.

A merciful numbness settled over his body as his armor's VI activated the medical suite, injecting a lovely amount of painkiller into his veins.

As he finally began to stand up, Jack came flying over his shoulder and into the side of the Kodiak. She then dropped to the floor in a boneless heap.

"JACK!" Alan rushed to her side and did a quick scan with his Omni-tool.

Several fractured bones, internal bleeding, a broken arm, and a shattered knee. That along with the hole in her leg and a dozen other minor injuries told Alan that it was probably better that she was unconscious. The pain upon waking up would likely be unbearable.

He gave her a quick dose of painkiller to help with that, then his HUD's alarms screamed at him. Warnings about his team's status competed for his attention. Alan immediately shut them all off and looked up to see for himself.

Tali was writhing on the ground, weakly pumping shot after shot of antibiotics into her system. Legion had been cut in half and the light in it's eye seemed dangerously dim. Garrus was missing an arm. The Turian stumbled back and forth in shock before Mordin, who looked like he'd climbed out of a furnace, wrestled him to the ground with surprising ease and began applying generous doses of medi-gel.

He couldn't find Miranda. Jacob...Alan blinked twice to clear his vision...Jacob's vital signs were flat. He was dead.

"...No."

He'd been down for only a few minutes.

"...No!"

Now a friend was dead.

"...NO!"

Alan tore off his helmet, unable to look at the flat vital signs any longer. His eyes stung and Alan blinked away the slowly developing moisture. Gradually he found the strength to raise his head.

Samara and Thane were currently locked in combat with The Wrath. Only their graceful movements and trained reflexes allowed them to remain alive. Even so, Alan could see that both had sustained more than a few minor injuries from their opponent's humming blades.

With injuries on his leg, shoulder, and ribs, Alan knew he was in no condition to jump into the fray himself. More than likely he'd simply get in the way.

But that didn't mean there was no way for him to help.

Alan's eyes wandered to the M-44 Hammerhead IFV sitting idly at the back of the hangar.

"Payback time."

* * *

Thane knew that he would remember the events of the last 5 minutes for the rest of what remained of his life. Samara had called the opponent that they were engaging a demon. It was an apt description. Not only because of its ghoulish appearance, but because of the ferocious way it attacked.

Upon entering the _Normandy_ by jumping a distance of 30 feet it had, in the blink of an eye, incapacitated more than half of the _Normandy's_ team. As it had done so Thane had paid careful attention to it's movements and the way it conducted itself in a fight. The demon's style of operation was similar to the assassin's. But only in a way that lions stalked prey similarly to how house cats stalked mice.

Both operated on the basis of an unrelenting offensive coupled with blinding speed. But the sheer level of precision and speed that this demon wielded was leagues above the assassin's. He moved so quickly that even Thane, who was considered fast even by his own naturally graceful kin, had a hard time keeping a solid track of the demon's movements.

It was only through a life time of intense training and the assistance of Samara that Thane had not yet met his end.

"Thane watch out!"

Samara's warning, while appreciated, was relatively unneeded. Thane had known that after directing three strikes at the Justicar the demon would switch targets and come after him. His prediction proved true and the demon whirled around and closed the distance between them in the time it took a heart to beat.

Red hot blades sliced at Thane in wide horizontal strikes. Thane gracefully kept just out of reach of each swipe. Between each dodged strike, Thane fired a retaliatory shot at the demon. Each shot was in turn dodged or intercepted by the swiping blade's twin.

While this dance played out, Thane watched for a chance to deliver biotic empowered knife hand strike to the demon's throat. But a sudden surprise crosscut not only killed his plan, but managed to draw a thin line diagonally down Thane's chest.

It was an incredibly shallow cut and the pain was negligible. But it showed Thane that the demon was becoming attuned to his pattern of avoidance. As if to confirm this the demon landed another shallow strike on Thane, this time across his cheek.

To earn himself some breathing room, Thane cast out his hand to let loose a Biotic Throw. At the same time, the demon's foot snapped up against his wrist and redirected the release of Dark Energy into the hangar ceiling. The demon immediately followed up with a kick to Thane's chin.

Thane reeled from the blow.

 **"If only I could have fought you in your prime."**

The demon moved to carve him to pieces. But just as his blades began to descend he became surrounded in a blue aura.

Behind him Samara yanked back her outstretched hand and the demon was pulled off his feet. But instead of simply flying through the air, as most victims of the Justicar's biotics did, the demon spun with the momentum of the Biotic Pull to face her.

Samara's fist, which was wreathed in a pulsing blue field, shot out with the intention of punching through the demon's body. But the demon, still clutching the his blades, raised his hands and unleashed a telekinetic. Samara was sent flying back and would have flown out the _Normandy's_ hangar had she not raised her mass considerably and weighted herself down, landing on the ship's lowered ramp.

The demon's returned to the deck and immediately broke into a sprint towards her.

Knowing that close quarters combat would spell her doom, Samara attempted to keep the demon back by throwing out a Biotic Shockwave and two Warps. The demon skillfully spun out of the way of the first and then slid underneath the second and third.

As he came up the demon hurled both of his blades at the Justicar.

Samara's eyes widened marginally in response. The whirling blades came at her too quickly to attempt any biotic counters. Instead the Justicar ran to meet them. A foolish move for most, but not for her. Just before the twin blades could slice her apart Samara spun and twisted her body in a display of impressive flexibility.

The blades missed her body by mere centimeters. As they passed by she could feel their searing heat on her skin and their hum in her bones. But once they passed the Justicar continued on unharmed and she was free to unleash her counter attack.

But then the demon was suddenly in front of her and he drove his armored fist into her stomach. The thrown blades had just been a distraction, this had been his true attack. The air in Samara's lungs evaporated and for the first time in a century, pain drove her to her hands and knees.

Samara heard the hum of the demon's blades return. He stood over her on the _Normandy's_ ramp, weapons held up to finish her.

 **"I hope you find peace in the embrace of your Goddess."**

"NOT TODAY ASSHOLE!" boomed Alan's voice.

A hum, not originating from the demon's blades, but familiar to all those who served aboard the _Normandy_ permeated the hangar.

With a roar the Hammerhead hovered forward and it's gun locked onto the demon.

* * *

One of his favorite toys that the Illusive Man had gifted him, the M-44 Hammerhead Infantry Fighting Vehicle wasn't as durable as the Mako but it was a whole lot more fun to drive and had a way cooler gun. In the past the _Normandy_ had mainly employed it as infantry support to fight against heavy enemy units.

Alan never thought that he'd be driving it inside his own ship against an enemy using swords.

"You ready on the gun Zaeed?"

The mercenary sitting at the gun controls banged his fist against the ceiling twice. "Let's fuck'em up!"

Samara took The Wrath's momentary distraction to roll out of the way and dive back into the hangar.

"Fire!"

The Hammerhead's main gun belched out a missile. One that The Wrath immediately telekinetically redirected out of the hangar.

"Again!" Another missile was sent screeching towards The Wrath only to be swiped to the side by an invisible hand.

Alan gritted his teeth in frustration.

"As fast as you can!"

"Switching to rapid fire!" Zaeed confirmed.

A rapid stream of missiles erupted from the Hammerhead's gun with one missile immediately following another. But still, The Wrath matched the vehicle's rate of fire. Every missile was swatted away as though it were little more than a baseball fired from a pitching machine.

Alan could hardly believe it. Even when face with an armored vehicle, this assshole still found a way to stay on top.

Finally, after the fifteenth missile had been deflected, The Wrath chose to strike back. The next missile he redirected right back at the Hammerhead. Alan saw it coming but reacted too late. The missile struck the hull of the IFV and warnings of damage taken appeared on his haptic display.

"Shit!" cursed Alan.

 _"Warning. Damage taken,"_ the Hammerhead's VI announced in frustrating monotone.

"Yeah, I noticed," Zaeed commented.

"Keep firing!"

Undaunted, the Hammerhead continued to spew forth missile after missile. The Wrath in turn continued to deflect and redirect the missiles back, though this time Alan was prepared for the possibility of return fire and managed to evade any traitor missiles.

"Damn it this isn't working, we need more!"

As if answering his demands Samara appeared at the Hammerhead's side and began hurling Warp after Warp at The Wrath.

"Feel the justice of the Goddess!"

Suddenly The Wrath found himself working to deflect not just a stream of missiles but a barrage of blue orbs. Though he continued to stand strong Alan noted that The Wrath no longer had the time to redirect anything back at them, which on it's own could be considered a victory.

Then Thane appeared at the Hammerhead's other side carrying his sniper rifle.

"Amonkira, God of the Hunt, guide my aim."

Soon the familiar _crack_ of his rifle joined the symphony of fire being directed towards The Wrath, who was now completely devoted towards defending himself.

Alan noticed that The Wrath was slowly moving further and further back towards the edge of the ramp and it made him smile. Between dodging sniper fire, blocking Warp attacks, and deflecting missiles, The Wrath was slowly being overwhelmed.

But a cornered predator was a more dangerous one.

 **"It seems now I can begin to try."** With those words the very air around The Wrath crackled with energy. Outside of the Hammerhead, Samara and Thane felt their skin tingle in response to an electrical charge.

A bolt of blue lightning struck the Hammerhead, scorching its armor and causing the vehicle's to dip towards the ground. Inside the IFV, Alan's haptic display flickered in and out of existence.

"What the hell just hit us?!" he demanded.

The display finally came back to life fully and granted Alan his answer. Through the Hammerhead's forward camera, Alan saw The Wrath standing at the edge of the _Normandy's_ boarding ramp like a figure out of myth. Dangerous arcs of energy snapped around him and snaked around his outstretched arms and red blades.

Still keeping a grasp on his weapons, The Wrath stretched out his fingers towards them. Blue lightning streaked from the tips and engulfed the Hammerhead. Once again Alan's haptic display began to flicker in and out of life while at the same time attempting to show him areas of damage.

Sparks erupted all around the vehicle's cockpit as systems died and electrical fires came to life.

Zaeed's targeting system was one of the first to burst into flames. "I've lost targeting!"

Alan reeled at the ridiculousness of it all. "HE CAN SHOOT LIGHTNING FROM HIS HANDS?! YOU'VE GOT TO BE FUCKING KIDDING ME! DID THIS GUY COME OUT OF A FUCKING VIDEOGAME?!"

Samara and Thane immediately came to their comrades aid and attempted to take The Wrath down while he concentrated on the IFV. But the he turned his attention towards them and unleashed a new stream of lightning.

Even with their speed, the lightning moved too fast to be avoided. A stream from The Wrath's right hand struck Thane and sent him flying back into the _Normandy's_ hangar. Samara's Biotic Barrier miraculously held out and protected her against the crackling stream of energy. Then The Wrath concentrated both hands upon her and she suffered the same fate as Thane.

"Damn it!" Alan slammed his fist against the wall of the Hammerhead, denting it.

"What now?!" asked Zaeed.

"I've got a plan...but it's a crazy one."

"At this point I'm up for anything."

"Good. You should be still be able to dumb fire missiles. It won't have the homing function, but at this range I don't think you'll need it. Keep him busy."

"Alright, and then what?"

Alan placed his hands on the Hammerhead's haptic controls. "Get ready to bail."

Zaeed's eye widened as he realized the plan. Then a crooked smile worked it's way onto his lips. "Let's do it!"

Once again the Hammerhead began to belch forth missile after missile. Instead of deflecting them with his telekinetic powers, The Wrath intercepted each one with a bolt of lightning, causing them to detonate early.

Suddenly, the Hammerhead itself roared as the flames erupting from its hoverjets burned brighter. The vehicle shot forward towards The Wrath.

"Bail! Bail! Bail!" ordered Alan as he finished activating the Hammerhead's autopilot. Both Humans leapt out the exit hatch in the back, just as the vehicle boosted forward.

The Wrath leapt on top of the Hammerhead, intent on cutting into the vehicle and slaughtering the occupants he believed were still within. He was therefore surprised to see those occupants sprawled out on the ramp while the Hammerhead continued forward.

 **"Interesting strategy."** With The Wrath surfing on its hood, the Hammerhead flew off the _Normandy's_ boarding ramp and into the cargo bay he had fought Alan in. He promptly jumped off the IFV just before it smashed into a heavy shipping container and burst into flames.

Alan slammed his fist against the ramp control and it began to close. "Joker! Get us out of here now!"

 _"Aye Commander! Making for space now!"_

* * *

The Wrath watched as the _Normandy_ presented its backside to him. For a moment he considered preventing its escape by using the Force to hold the ship back, but decided against it. He'd wasted enough time playing around with the crew of the _Normandy_ and their Commander.

By his admission the _Normandy_ exited the Checkpoint Station docks and entered the limitless black void of space.

Captain Tyco and his men chose that moment to enter the cargo bay. While the Imperial soldiers swept through the room their Captain joined The Wrath in watching the _Normandy_ fly away.

"My lord, shall I contact our fighters and have them hunted down?" he asked humbly.

 **"Yes. See to it that they do not reach the Relay. We cannot-"** A chirp from The Wrath's communicator interrupted him. He unclipped it from his belt and accepted the incoming call.

A blue hued miniature representation of his master appeared in his palm.

 **"My master."** The Wrath bowed his head and reverantly Captain Tyco fell to one knee. **"What is thy bidding?"**

 ** _"Wrath. I understand that you have successfully intercepted Commander Shepard and the Normandy."_**

 **"Yes master."**

 _ **"Excellent, am I to assume then that Zhaff was successful in eliminating Urdnot Wrex and silencing their prisoner?"**_

 **"Nok Kova is dead. But Urdnot Wrex remains alive, though he has apparently entered a healing coma."**

The Emperor and locked his hands behind his back thoughtfully. _**"Hmmm, I see."**_

 **"Fear not master, I was just about to order my fighters to shoot them down. Urdnot Wrex shall not-"**

 ** _"Halt that order. Allow them to escape."_**

The Wrath hesitated in confusion.

 ** _"I sense that you do not understand."_**

 **"I...yes my master."**

 ** _"Though he does not know it, Commander Shepard has a part to play in what is to come. I do not want him dead, at least not where no one can see his defeat."_** The Emperor explained and then asked, _" **Do you see him as a threat my Wrath?"**_

 **"No master. He is at best, an inspirational speaker."**

 _ **"An apt observation."**_

 **"But if he returns to the Citadel, he may rouse the Council to action. It would be inconvenient if they were to mobilize before we are ready."**

 _ **"I have already dispatched agents to keep an eye on the good Commander. For now you must return to Tuchanka and ensure that the Krogan are prepared, I have already informed Wreav that he is to obey you as he does me."**_

The Wrath bowed his head again.

 **"Yes my master."**

The transmission cut and the Emperor disappeared. One of Tyco's men moved to the Captain's side and whispered something to him. He nodded and relayed the message to The Wrath.

"My Lord Wrath, we've found Lord Passik. He is injured but alive."

The Wrath let out a grunt of acknowledgement. **"Bring him to me, I shall have words with him."**

* * *

Revan stepped away from his communicator and sighed.

"It pains you to lie to him," said Darth Jadus, the room's only other occupant.

"Yes," Revan replied honestly. "Despite what many might believe, he is a good man and a loyal servant. I should be rewarding him with the truth, not hiding it from him."

"You know he would not understand. We must keep the truth of this war hidden from him."

"Yes." Revan turned to face Jadus. "How goes the search? Have your agents found **it** yet?"

Jadus ever so slightly shook his head. "No. But we are narrowing down the possibilities. Once the war begins and the deaths start to pile up, it will be easier to find."

Revan nodded. "Very good. Alert me if even the smallest change has happened."

"Yes my lord." Jadus bowed and exited the room. When the door shut with a hiss, Revan allowed himself to exhale in relief. All of this posturing and eloquent talk made him feel stuffy.

Though Jadus was his confidant for the true purpose of the Sith's presence in the Relay Galaxy, Revan had never felt comfortable around The Will like he did with The Wrath. It truly did pain him to lie to his friend. Nearly 300 years ago, the man he was would never have considered hiding the truth from a trusted friend.

But that was **then** and this was **now.**

Revan knew that for now he could not risk The Wrath knowing the truth. For if he did, Revan was not sure that his loyal friend would stay loyal.

The Emperor let out a mirthless chuckle.

It seemed that loyalty was a prime concern these days.

"Soon," he said to himself, "soon the curtain can fall and all will be revealed. I just need a little more time."

* * *

 _CODEX: CITADEL TECHNOLOGY: OMNI-TOOL: COMBAT APPS_

 _Omni-tools are multipurpose diagnostic and manufacturing tools as well as computers for a variety of civilian and military tasks, such as hacking, decryption, or repair. Militaries employ higher-end Omni-tools that are loaded with a multitude of combat apps. These apps are capable of performing a multitude of tasks on the battlefield from offensive measures such as flash forged grenades, to defensive measures such as silicone shields. The most popular and common combat apps are: Overload, Incinerate, and Cryo blast._

 ** _Click Tab for more information on Overload:_**

 _Most non-military personnel incorrectly believe that the Overload app sends out a jolt of electricity from the user's Omni-tool. In reality, a miniature explosive is flash forged by the Omni-tool and launched at the intended target. The grenade that releases a powerful EMP that shuts down shields, VI systems, and mechs._ _The app is popular among Illium tech gangs and high profile mercenaries._

 _Interesting Notes: Many high quality mechs have been "hardened" to resist the EMP affects of an Overload._

 ** _Click Tab for more information on Incinerate:_**

 _Described by some as "casting fireball". While description can be forgiven, it is still incorrect. The reality of this combat app is that the user's Omni-tool launches a glob of high explosive and highly flammable incendiary gel. The gel splatters on the intended target and immediately bursts into flames that cannot be quenched using water. Many humans compare its affects to that of Napalm used in past wars. The mercenary group known as Blood Pack is famous for arming all of its operatives with this app._

 _Interesting Notes: There have been multiple movements within Council Space to ban the use of Incinerate as a combat app as they believe it to be barbaric._

 ** _Click Tab for more information on Cryo Blast:_**

 _The app known as Cryo Blast is as much an offensive measure as it is a utility. While it can be used to flash freeze enemy combatants, the blast of cryogenic chemicals fired from the Omni-tool can also be used to douse fires. Most notably, it can be used to counteract the affects of an Incinerate app. Many firefighters use this app in lieu of water hoses and fire extinguishers due to the added benefit of an Omni-tool being compact._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey there! Look at that a new chapter!**

 **I apologize that this took a while. But I've been busy IRL and I had to do a bit of rewriting when I realized that certain parts weren't as good as I wanted them to be.**

 **So yes, the crew of the Normandy has been sufficiently thrashed. I kept debating how thrashed I wanted them. Some things like Garrus losing an arm I wanted to save for later in the story, but I realized that it wouldn't make sense for the crew to walk away unscathed after an encounter with an uber-Sith like The Wrath.**

 **Now everyone is beat up. Oh, and Jacob is dead.**

 **Please no "The black guy died first" jokes. That's not at all the reason he is dead. It would have made no sense if absolutely no one died during the fight with The Wrath. Jacob was admittedly my least favorite character so he drew the short stick and took a lightsaber through the chest.**

 **Kasumi is gonna be sad.**

 **I'm glad to have finally finished this little mini-arc. As fun as it is to write giant fight scenes, I feel like we've had quite a few of them in the past chapters.**

 **The next few chapters will be a lot less fighting and more fluff and story. We'll see Shepard investigate and act like a Spectre. Plus we'll see the introduction of a couple Mass Effect OC's.**

 **Thank you for reading, please take the time to review and tell me what you thought!**

 **Bye bye!**


	8. Chapter 5: Wounds

**Star Wars is owned by Disney and LucasArts. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

 _ **WarzoneN7:** UNLIMTED POWAH! Thanks, I'm glad your enjoying the story._

 _ **andrei666999666:** Thanks! Revan at this point in his life is vey much a chess master, so it's more likely that Jadus is the one who needs to watch out._

 _ **RabidArmenian:** Thanks you. Also I understand the slug thrower argument. My response is simply, there are so many other characters from other frachises, i.e SAO II, Wonder Woman, Deadpool, who use swords to block bullets. I therefore see no problem why a Force user should not be able to do the same with a lightsaber. It's less about how fast the gun shoots and more about how good the reflexes of the Force user are._

 _ **General Slime:** I suppose. I actually felt bad for killing him so quick, Jacob would be a cool friend in real life. Thanks for the review!_

 _ **Ramos:** This fic will definitely start to look more on the psychological consequences of witnessing death. Thank you for your support!_

 _ **OldOneGriffin:** Thanks for the review! Vette will come back, but I want her inclusion to make sense. I don't want to put her in a chapter just for the sake of having her. But don't worry, I love Vette and I love writing her, she'll be back._

 _ **Alliance Empire:** I'm glad you're enjoying the story!_

 _ **Firegod02:** Thank you!_

 _ **TheHungryWolf:** I'm glad I'm writing well enough to keep you around. We will see an evolution of the crew, so look forward to that._

 **Author's Note:**

 **I apologize that this is a shorter chapter and that it took a little longer than usual to get it out to all of you. My responsibilities at my job have taken a rise and I have less time to write than I would like. Also, be warned that the next couple of chapters will have less action and more exposition and setup.**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 5 - Wounds**

* * *

 **Citadel**

 **Huerta Memorial Hospital**

 **8:37 AM Citadel Time**

Alan sat in the lobby of the hospital with a cup of cold coffee in his hands.

In the corner a human woman rested against her wife's shoulder. Behind him a pair of Turian children, under the watchful eye of their father, played with some toys. Near the front desk, an Asari nervously paced back and forth.

They, and everyone else in the lobby save for the children, had at least one thing in common with Alan: they were exhausted with grief.

Everything that happened after the fight at the Checkpoint Station had been an absolute blur. Nearly everyone had been injured in some manner.

Garrus had lost his right arm.

Tali's immune system had been compromised.

Legion had been cut in half.

Every biotic on the team was feeling the after effects of overusing their powers.

And Jacob...

He shut his eyes tight as the painful realization that his friend was dead returned. Alan was no stranger to losing men under his command. During his career in the military he had lost many. On the rocky fields of Akuze, inside the caves of Torfan, in the deserts of Mars, and the grassy fields of Elysium. Many men had died while under his command and every time Alan had made a point to bear the responsibility of their deaths.

But Jacob was more than a soldier under his command. Jacob was his friend.

When Alan had first come back to life, surrounded by strangers and former enemies, Jacob had quite literally been the first friendly face he'd seen. There had been something so incredibly straight forward about Jacob that convinced Alan that Jacob would never stab him in the back.

Alan had come to trust Jacob. Similarly, Jacob had made his trust in Alan well known form the very start.

* * *

 _The Normandy had just left Omega's docks, all parts intact._

 _Alan was glad, that space station had smelled like blood, booze, and piss, even with the filters in his helmet. But the trip had been worth it as they'd managed to pick up three recruits._

 _Zaeed Massani, a older mercenary, and one tough son of a bitch based on what Alan had observed during the many firefights they'd gotten into._

 _Mordin Solus, former STG, and fast talking Salarian professor. He was surprisingly good with a gun and his near encyclopedic knowledge of the biology of all races made him a natural field medic. Alan thought him a funny fellow._

 _Archangel, or as Alan knew him, Garrus Vakarian. Seeing his old friend had nearly pushed him over the edge. Surrounded by Cerberus, Alan had felt suffocated. Garrus was welcomed breath of fresh air. Now he was in the med-lab being treated by Dr. Chawkwas and Mordin._

 _For what must have been the tenth time in the last hour, Alan chided himself. He shouldn't have just left that damn gunship in disrepair. He should have stuck a grenade in it's exhaust port or shot it's controls. If he had, then maybe they would have been able to get Garrus out unharmed._

 _The hiss of his cabin door opening caused Alan to break from his thoughts and swivel around in his chair. He suspected it was Miranda, probably wanting to go over the mission debriefing. God that woman loved protocol._

 _He was surprised to see Jacob walk in holding a cooler._

 _"Commander," Jacob placed the cooler on the floor and snapped a perfect salute._

 _"Mr. Taylor," Alan stood and returned the salute. "Is there something I can help you with?"_

 _"Nah, but I thought you could use a bit of help. Especially after that last mission." Jacob cracked the cooler lid open, revealing a dozen cans of different beer brands nestled comfortably on a bed of ice._

 _Alan cocked a brow quizzically. "I don't know if you remember, but in the Alliance soldiers aren't allowed to drink while on duty."_

 _"I remember," Jacob nodded, "but we aren't in the Alliance, and after what happened to your friend Garrus...I figured you could use some liquid comfort."_

 _Jacob was right, they weren't in the Alliance and a cold beer sounded damn good right now. Alan relented with a sigh and nodded._

 _"You got anything dark?"_

 _Jacob tossed him a can of Guinness, Alan's favorite brand. He wondered if the Cerberus officer had known that._

 _"Seems a shame to drink it out of a can," Alan commented._

 _"I got you covered." Jacob opened a side compartment in the cooler, revealing a variety of different glassware. He picked out a stout glass and handed it to Alan._

 _"You thought of everything."_

 _"Pays to be prepared." Jacob grabbed himself a lighter beer and poured it into another glass. Alan did the same with his Guinness._

 _Once the foam of Alan's drink died down, he raised his glass towards Jacob. "Cheers."_

 _Jacob's glass touched his with a light clink. Alan took a brief moment to appreciate the aroma of his drink before taking a deep gulp._

 _"Oh, that is good," Alan said. "Thanks."_

 _"No problem. Was actually thinking of setting up a bar on the Port Observation deck."_

 _"Not a bad idea."_

 _"I thought so. Miranda on the other hand...not as much."_

 _Alan smirked. "She's got a bit of stick up her ass doesn't she?"_

 _"Mmmm..." Jacob nodded and took a sip of his beer. "At least it's a real nice ass."_

 _Both men burst out laughing._

* * *

Alan sipped his coffee...it was cold and stale. This was made all the worse by his memories of the beer he'd shared with Jacob. Alan hated hospitals. Everything in them was unnaturally clean, the whole place stank of disinfectant, and then there was the needles. Alan really hated needles.

On any other day, Alan would have been as far as possible from a hospital. But today five of his friends were in the hospital receiving emergency medical care. For them, he'd sit in the lobby for as long as was needed.

But as the holographic clock above the front desk continued to tick away, Alan found himself becoming more and more restless. He attempted to ease himself by using his Omni-tool to write the report he'd be sending to the Council on the subject of what had happened at Checkpoint Station A-02.

He focused mainly on the fake checkpoint officers that had tried to kill them, but hesitated when getting to the part about The Wrath. The Council was skeptical on their best days and in constant denial on their worst. Videos on the extranet of Councilor Spartus sardonically saying "Reapers" was something of a meme, much to the Turian Councilor's chagrin.

If they wouldn't believe him about giant mechanical space squids coming to kill everyone, they probably weren't going to believe him too much about a man who fought with laser swords and tossed people around with invisible biotics.

A weary smirk made it's way onto Alan' lips despite the situation.

Difference was that this time he had worn a helmet.

Everything that had happened on the CDEM station had been recorded by his helmet camera. They could still claim forgery, but that would be hard to do when the footage had been taken by one of the Council's own Spectres.

Still, it would be best to run this over with someone politically savy first.

A chime from the door by the front desk broke Alan away from his Omni-tool. A dark skinned human doctor walked into the lobby. As expected his arrival drew the attention of everyone.

"Matriarch Natiri?" The Asari who had been pacing back and forth furiously sprinted to meet the doctor, while everyone else let out disappointed sighs and returned to their tasks.

Alan himself could barely hide his own disappointment.

"God damn it," he muttered. Attempts to distract himself again by writing his report proved to be futile. His mind was now firmly fixated on his friends in the emergency room.

With his Spectre authority he could technically just walk in through the doors and no one would be able to stop him. But that might just make things worse. Right now all his worries were based on how his friends had looked as they had been rolled into the hospital. How much worse would they get when he saw them now? Weak, withering in pain, strapped to beds for their own safety, tubes of different liquids pushed into their arms.

Just imagining it made Alan exhale shakily.

He began attempting to distract himself again by writing his report, when a pair of red heeled boots appeared in his vision.

"I can't recall ever seeing you so haggard Commander," said Samara.

"It's been a long day," said Alan as he stood up and the two clasped one another's forearms. "Chawkwas finally let you out?"

"That woman is surprisingly fierce for a doctor," said Samara as she took the seat next to Alan. "Were she an Asari I think she would have made for a fine huntress."

Alan chuckled. "Yeah, she's always been like that."

"Have you had any word from the doctors on our comrades?"

"...no."

"I see, I would not fear. Our friends are strong, the Goddess will see to it that they will survive."

"...I hope so," said Alan, unconvinced.

Though brought up in a religious household, a life time of fighting and witnessing the horrors that sentient beings were capable of had muddied his faith. As a result Alan had been left convinced that higher powers rarely ever intervened in mortal affairs.

Still, he appreciated what Samara was trying to do.

"How are things on the Normandy?" he asked, trying to change the topic.

"Most of the crew was left unharmed, though crewman Howards took a blow to the head defending the CIC."

Alan nodded. "I think his pride was hurt more."

"Legion continues to remain semi-operative. The quick work done on him by Engineers Donnelly and Daniels seems to have stabilized it, though I believe we should allow Tali to take a look as soon as she is able."

"Guess that's one of the benefits of being synthetic."

"Indeed."

"Grunt?"

"Furious that he missed the majority of the fighting and even more furious that he is unable to hold a weapon. Mordin is tending to him as best as he can while Grunt regrows his hands."

"He's still doing that? I thought they would be back by now. When he lost an arm on Horizon, he regrew it in just a few days."

"The properties of the blades our foes used has slowed the process. But he is making progress."

"I see. How is Mordin anyway?"

The corners of Samara's lips turned up in a rare display of levity. "He is unharmed for the most part, besides a few burns. His shields stopped the incendiary gel from touching him directly. Currently he has moved Nok Kova's remains into the science lab for study."

"Heh, that's Mordin for you." Alan paused briefly, then finally asked, "how's Miranda?"

"...not well," Samara responded.

"How bad?"

"She has taken to locking herself in her office and drowning herself in work. On the rare occasions she is not doing so, I have seen her in the shuttle hangar, standing over Jacob's coffin."

"Jacob was her friend. They'd worked together for a long time. I can't say I blame her grieving."

Samara nodded. "I know the feeling of losing close ones well. It never becomes easier."

Alan sighed heavily and nodded. "I know what you mean. But Miranda is strong. She'll pull through and come back swinging."

An hour of silence passed after that. Deciding that trying to write when he had writer's block was a gesture in futility, Alan chose to pass the time listening to music from his Omni-tool and a pair of flash forged ear buds. Samara chose to sit cross-legged on the floor and meditate.

Finally an Asari doctor entered the lobby from behind the front desk. "Commander Shepard?"

Shepard practically jumped from his seat. "That's me!"

Samara biotically floated to her feet and followed Shepard in greeting the doctor.

"Commander Shepard, thank you for your patience. I'm Doctor Nezeya'Han, I'm the one in charge of operations on your team."

"How are they doctor? Are they alright?"

"I have good news on that department. It took some work, but as far as we can tell none of them are in danger of dying."

"As far as you can tell? What the hell does that mean?" Shepard asked with a bit more bite than he meant.

"Shepard." Samara stepped in with her usual calm. "Forgive the Commander, Doctor Nezeya'Han. This has been a stressful ordeal."

The Asari doctor immediately recognized Samara as a Justicar and gave a shallow bow. "Of course Madame Justicar. Fear not, as a doctor I am quite used to it. As for your question Commander, what I meant was that most of them are in delicate phases of healing. If they are further injured or exposed to undue amounts of stress their recovery may go poorly."

Alan nodded. "I see. Can I get the details on everyone?"

"Of course. But it might be easier to simply show you. Please, come this way."

The doctor led Shepard and Samara behind the front desk and through a pair of sliding doors. They entered into a sterile white hallway lined with a number of observation windows. Through each of the windows, Alan could see into rooms containing two patients each.

"This is where we treat non-emergency cases."

In the fourth set of rooms down the hall, Nezeya'Han came to a stop.

"Here are two of your crew."

Inside the room, Shepard saw Zaeed and Jack lying in hospital beds. The mercenary was peacefully chewing on a toothpick, likely in lieu of a cigar. His roommate restlessly shifted under her sheets, seemingly unable to become comfortable on the soft hospital bed.

"How are they?" asked Shepard.

"Out of your entire crew, they needed the least amount of work. Mr. Massani simply needed a liberal amount of medi-gel applied to his hand and shoulder. I would recommend that he not try to use either for a while, at least not till the wounds close."

"He won't agree, but I'll see what I can do. What about Jack?"

"Ms. Jack has a broken arm, a hole in her leg, and several fractured ribs and three broken ones. I must ask, did she get hit by an air car?"

"Something like that."

"I figured. The pattern of damage to her ribs is consistent with patients that come from auto accidents. In any case, she'll need some time to rest and heal, but she is in no danger of dying."

"Well that's a relief. Where are the others?"

"They are Emergency Care, please, follow me."

Doctor Nezeya'Han led them further down the hall where they passed through another pair of doors. Here a number of orderlies and surgeons rushed back and forth, often with a bloodied body on a stretcher.

Unlike the previous ward, patients here were separated into their own rooms. Two rooms down Nezeya'Han stopped by an observation window, tinted so that no one could see through.

The doctor tapped a few keys on the window's haptic control pad and the tint disappeared, allowing Shepard and Samara to see Thane resting on a hospital bed. A number of IV tubes and monitoring cables were attached to his body.

Alan heard Samara inhale sharply.

"Your Drell friend had a number of harsh electrical burns across his abdomen. We also took some x-rays and found some interesting developments in his lungs."

"Thane has Keplar syndrome," confirmed Samara.

"That's what I thought. It seems the injuries that he sustained have aggravated his condition. We'll need to keep him here for some time to ensure that he doesn't suffer a premature advancement."

Alan's hand curled into a fist.

Doctor Nezeya'Han seemed to sense his anger. "Do you...want to see the rest of your team?" she asked carefully.

"No." Shepard admitted. "But take me to them anyway."

"It's alright if you wish to stop. I can understand that seeing your friends in such conditions must feel-"

"Please," he interrupted, "just take me to them. As their Commander it's my duty to make sure they're doing well."

The doctor nodded. "Of course. Please, this way."

They moved to the next window over. In this room they saw Wrex. He too was lying in a hospital bed surrounded by a number of machines, but unlike Thane the Krogan was strapped to his bed.

"Are those restraints really necessary?" asked Shepard, his tone making his disapproval clear.

"I'm afraid so. We've rarely had Krogan patients, but the few times we did their recovery tended to be a bit...violent."

Alan decided to accept the explanation for now. "Wrex is one of the toughest Krogan I know, he'll pull through right?"

"As luck would have it, we've actually treated him here before. His last visit had something to do with a..." the doctor paused to check her Omni-tool, "...a bar fight involving two humans, a Turian, and an Elcor mercenary. In any case, due to his frequent need for medical attention, we have much of his blood type stored here. As such we've been able to stabilize his condition."

"So he'll be alright?"

"He's had serious blood loss and quite a bit of tissue damage. Thankfully Krogan bodies don't take wounds the same way you or I do. Yes, he'll pull recover, but like the others it will take some time. Even with his Krogan healing factor, you can't just regrow twenty pounds of lost flesh overnight."

"How long?"

"If he were any other Krogan, a month at the very least. But Wrex has proven to be hardier than most of his kind. I'd say perhaps two to three weeks."

Alan bit down another sigh. That wasn't good news. He needed Wrex to tell him what the hell was going on on Tuchanka, and he needed that info now. But as he took another look at his friend lying helplessly in the hospital bed, Shepard decided that for now, just knowing he wouldn't lose someone else was enough.

"There are two others," said Samara.

"Yes, the Quarian and Turian. Those two are over here."

The doctor led them to the window opposite of Wrex's and found that it belonged to Tali. Unlike the previous two, the Quarian's room was set up to be completely sterile, with a giant Omni-glass bubble surrounding her bed and a pump constantly filtering the air inside.

"We don't usually get Quarian patients. Luckily records of their anatomy are kept in the Citadel archives. Your friend had a serious case of septic shock. Ironically, even though she had the fewest wounds she was in the most danger of dying. I'm afraid there's little more we can do for her than keep her in a sterile environment and monitor her vitals while her immune system works out the disease."

The topic of what Tali looked like underneath her suit was a hotly debated topic on the Normandy, particularly by Hadley and Matthews. More than a few times Alan had walked around the CIC or cafeteria and heard the two crewmen gossiping about what Tali must look like beneath her mask.

Her enviable hips often became a subject of conversation as well.

Shepard was one of the few people who had had the privilege of having previously seen Tali without her mask. On Feros one of the Thorian's thralls had managed to throw up acid onto her. The kinetic barriers had saved her from dying out right, but enough of the acid had gotten on her mask that she'd had to abandon it.

Back then he had been just as curious to see what Quarians really looked like.

They were a beautiful race. Even more beautiful, in Shepard's opinion, than the Asari, though that was probably because they looked more like humans than the Asari. Shepard often found himself describing their appearance as "purple humans with claws".

With the exception of her clawed three fingered hands, shiny lavender skin, and pupiless white eyes, Tali could almost be mistaken for a young human woman.

"She looks pale," Alan commented.

"Excuse me?"

"Tali. She looks pale. Her skin color is usually a darker purple than that."

"I see, I had assumed that that was her natural skin pigmentation. I'll add regular doses of vitamin shots to her treatment plan."

"Please see that you do."

Finally they came to Garrus. Like the others was in a hospital bed surrounded by monitoring equipment. The Turian was awake and laid back in his bed, with his one remaining hand he held the stub where his right arm had once been.

"He's awake? Strange, I gave him the right amount of sedative. He should be sleeping like the others."

Shepard smiled. Garrus always did have a knack for beating the odds. "Well, as long as he's awake I think I'll go talk to him."

"Commander Shepard wait-"

Before the doctor could finish her protest, Alan waved his Spectre badge in front of the door control and like magic it slid open for him. Garrus nearly scrambled from his bed open hearing the door chime, but calmed down upon seeing that it was Shepard.

"Alan! Spirits it's just you. I...I thought..." Garrus sheepishly turned his gaze down.

"It's alright Garrus. I know what you mean." Alan had seen this before. After rescuing Garrus on Omega, the Turian had been jumpy for a full week on account of losing half his face to a gunship's rocket.

"Samara. Glad to see you're alright," said Garrus upon seeing the Justicar.

"Greetings Garrus. I am pleased to see you are well."

"Heh, thanks. But I wouldn't say that I'm...'well'."

"My apologies, I did not mean to-"

"It's alright," Garrus interrupted.

An awkward silence filled the room.

"Samara, do you mind giving Garrus and I some time alone?" asked Alan.

"Of course, I shall ensure that the doctor does not try to disturb you." She gave a shallow bow and then exited. The door slid shut behind her.

"Ugh..." Garrus shook his head. "Bad joke. Bad. I still don't know when to keep my big mouth shut."

Alan grunted in agreement.

"I should apologize to her."

"Later," Alan dragged a chair over to the bed side. "First, let's talk. How are you?"

"Oh you know. Food's not bad. Bed's a bit too cushy. Lights are too bright. But hey, you're paying so all in all I'd say-"

"Garrus, come on."

"Right, sorry, like I said: big mouth." He took a deep breath. "Well, if your really want to know: my arm is missing."

"Yeah."

"Not just any arm either. My shooting arm."

"I'm sorry Garrus."

The Turian shook his head. "No. You don't have to apologize for anything Alan. This is all on that softclaw bastard with the swords. Him, Wreav, and their laser guns." Garrus' left talons curled into a fist. "Please tell me we're going after them."

"I don't know yet Garrus. I just don't know. I still haven't even processed what happened yet. One man took us all out with a pair of laser swords. He threw lightning at me Garrus! Fucking lightning! I thought I'd seen it all but this...I don't even know what this is."

Another pause of silence before Garrus finally asked the big question. "Do you think this has to do with the Reapers?"

Shepard pursed his lips. "I don't know. If it is, it doesn't quite fit with everything we've seen so far. No husks. No indoctrination. But what else could it be? Those soldiers shot at us with lasers, real lasers! Working DEWs! That technology just doesn't exist. And that Wrath guy, he had biotics that we've never seen before."

"If he was using biotics at all," said Garrus.

"What else could they be? Mutant powers? The manifestation of a cosmic energy?"

"Heh, hey, I'm just saying that we shouldn't rule out the possibility. After all, I didn't see any blue glow when he was tossing around one ton shipping containers."

Alan nodded solemnly. The truth was that not even he believed that The Wrath had been a biotic, for a number of reasons. But what else could it be? The idea that there was some other power that could defy the laws of physics was terrifying.

"Well, I'm sure we'll find out eventually."

"Yeah, when we hunt him down for payback." Garrus punctuated the last word with a low growl.

"You okay?"

"Fine. But I think the painkillers are starting to wear off."

As if on cue the door chimed open and Doctor Nezeya'Han stepped in, escorted by Samara. Alan looked to the Justicar for an explanation for the interruption.

"The doctor wishes to speak to Garrus."

"I need to give him another dose of painkillers," she clarified, "and I need to talk to him about possible prosthetic options while he's awake enough to talk."

Alan nodded in acceptance and stood up from his chair. "We'll talk more later Garrus. For now, get some rest."

"I'll try."

He then turned to the doctor. "Please forward the medical bills to me. I'll also pay for his prosthetic, make sure it's high quality."

"Alan you don't have to-"

"It's non-negotiable Garrus."

The doctor nodded. "I'll see to it."

Assured that his friend was in good hands, Alan exited the room with Samara.

"I hate to ask. But could you stay here and make sure they all stay safe. I know it's unlikely since we're in the Citadel. But I don't really feel like taking any chances, especially after what we saw."

"I was going to suggest the same actually," said Samara. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Fear not Commander, I will protect our comrades with my life. But what will you be doing?"

"We have too many questions and not enough answers, I think it's about time we started finding some answers. To do that, we're going to need help."

"And you are going to find this help? From who if I may ask?"

"From the only politician I trust."

* * *

 **Alliance Embassy**

Anderson was at his desk typing away at his computer when a chime from his Omni-tool caught his attention. He answered it and found his secretary on the other line.

"Grant? What is it?" he asked.

"Sorry to disturb you Councilor Anderson. But there's someone here for you: Commander Shepard."

"Shepard? Send him in!"

"Yes Councilor." The call ended and a moment later his office door slid open. Shepard walked in wearing a big goofy smile on his face.

"Seriously, you have a secretary now?" He jabbed a thumb back towards the door. "What's next a personal assistant that writes down everything you say?"

Anderson chuckled. "Heh, I'm considering it. But first I think I'll get an intern to fetch me coffee and pick up my dry cleaning."

"Maybe you can get me one. I am the reason you have this job after all," said Shepard as he swaggered up to Anderson's desk.

"Ha! Come here you little smartass!" With impressive speed for a man his age, Anderson reached over his desk and put Shepard into a headlock. He then proceeded to rub his knuckles across the man's head.

"Agh! Alright! Uncle! Uncle!" cried Shepard as he desperately tapped Anderson's bicep.

"And don't you forget it. Just because I'm at a desk job now doesn't mean I can't kick your ass."

"Heh, yeah I guess I should have known better. Though in my defense you are looking a little soft around the edges."

"The unfortunate side effects of nice dinners and no rules against drinking on duty." Anderson took his seat and Shepard took the chair across form him. "But enough about me son. What are you doing back here? Did you do it? Did you take down the Collectors?"

"Heh," Shepard gave the man a weary smile, "the answer to all of those is...well...it's a long story sir."

Anderson returned the smile. He then opened up a bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out from it two small glasses and a sizeable bottle of whisky.

"Well, I'm not getting any younger son."

Alan proceeded to recount all the recent events starting with the destruction of the Collectors, to Wrex's extraction from Tuchanka, ending with the encounter with CAT6 at the Citadel checkpoint and the monster who'd killed Jacob. By the time he had finished Anderson had his hands together in a mental storm of thoughts.

"Seems you've been busy," he finally said.

Shepard chuckled. "Just doing my job."

Anderson smiled and chuckled as well. "That you are. It's good to hear that the Collectors won't be abducting anymore colonies. But this business with the Orbital Checkpoint Station, that's some serious stuff. If an orbital station in the Krogan DMZ has been compromised and Council Demilitarization Enforcement Mission officers are being impersonated, the Council will want to know."

"So you believe me?"

"Of course. None of it's any more farfetched than the Reapers. Hell, like you said, maybe they're behind all of it. Though a few things are bothering me."

Alan leaned forward curiously. "Like what?"

"For starters, your escape from the Orbital Station. You say that once you got out of its docks you had a smooth flight to the Relay?"

"That's right."

"No ships tried to stop you?"

"None."

"Hmmm, that's troubling. The orbital checkpoint stations do the majority of the work in the DMZ. But each station also has a complement of ships to handle patrols."

Shepard quickly put the pieces together. "But there were no ships when the Normandy passed the checkpoint to get to Tuchanka, or when we left."

"Did you see any debris when you flew in?"

"No more than usual. The space around Tuchanka is basically a ship graveyard."

"If the station itself was compromised, then I'll bet you the CDEM ships were destroyed and their wreckage dragged into the debris fields."

"Shit. I didn't even think of that." Alan silently berated himself. In hindsight, the lack of patrol ships should have been tipped him off from the start. Maybe if he'd caught that Jacob would still be alive. No. He couldn't think like that.

"There's also the matter of this...man you encountered, with the powers. What did you call him?"

"He calls himself: The Wrath," Alan clarified.

Anderson scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hmmm, bit dramatic. And you're sure he wasn't using biotics?"

"Positive. There was no biotic glow and the shit he did was something not even an Asari Matriarch could have pulled off. I've got helmet cam footage to prove it too."

"Show me."

Alan activated his Omni-tool and threw an orange holographic ring at Anderson. The Councilor 'caught' the ring with his own Omni-tool and then slotted it into his desk terminal. The two men watched in silence as the footage of Alan's helmet played, starting from landing on Tuchanka to the battle with The Wrath.

While Anderson watched with attentive fascination, Alan found himself silently berating himself nearly every second. Seeing it a second time without the distraction of adrenaline and self-preservation instinct allowed Shepard to truly see the fight for what it had been: a beat down. The more he saw, the more he realized that The Wrath hadn't even really been taking him seriously.

It was frustrating to see the least.

When it was over, Alan realized that he'd been tightly gripping the armrests of his chair. He released them, revealing the metal to be slightly bent. Sheepishly, he moved his arms to cover the damage before it could be noticed.

"I doubt the Council will be able to deny this," said Alan.

"They'll find a way," Anderson said.

"But this is footage taken by one of their own Spectres."

"A Spectre whose been dead for two years and has ties to a terrorist organization."

Alan flinched. "That's over with now."

"I know son. But you made a deal with the devil, and that has consequences. You go making the crazy claims and the Council will bring it up in an instant. You might be done with Cerberus, but Cerberus isn't done with you."

"They aren't crazy!" Alan shot up from his seat. "The proof is right there! I lost a friend fighting that...that monster!"

Anderson patiently waited for Shepard to calm down. The man finally slumped back into his chair, and Anderson refilled his empty glass. Alan took a grateful sip.

"I'm sorry sir. It's just...why would they want to deny it?"

"They're afraid of what they don't understand, of what's outside of their control. Sometimes it's easier to pretend like something doesn't exist instead of trying to make sense of it."

"That sounds like cowardice to me."

"I said it was 'easier' not braver." Anderson took a sip from his own glass. "But let's get back to it."

He rewound the video till they returned to the part where Alan had found Wreav sitting on the Urdnot throne.

"Just because we can't tell them that there's a man out there who can shoot lightning from his fingers, doesn't mean we can't tell them about the breach in the CDEM or the fact that the Krogan seem to be remilitarizing. Both of those by themselves would catch the Council's attention."

Alan nodded. "So we just give them parts of the video. Not the whole thing?"

"Exactly. I'll do some editing, cut out the parts that'll make the Council question. Then I'll call a meeting and present it to them. Spartus and Valern will be the in. They're people have beef with the Krogan. If we play things right, we might even get them to spearhead the cause."

"You've become quite the political animal," said Shepard, clearly amused.

Anderson shrugged. "It's not too different from maneuvering ships or men."

"I guess I should get started preparing what I'm going to say to the Council."

"Good idea. But you may also want to start looking into that mercenary group you encountered on the orbital station."

"CAT6? I guess I could start looking into them. Not quite sure where to start though."

"Funny you should mention that." Anderson activated his Omni-tool and tossed a data packet to Shepard. "In recent months I've been getting quite a few reports of increasing CAT6 activity in Citadel space. Assassinations, breaking and entering, destruction of property, you name it and CAT6 probably did it a week ago."

Shepard frowned and took a look at the data on his own Omni-tool. "That can't be a coincidence."

"I didn't say it was. I've been monitoring their activities, even reached out to SAI to put some agents on it."

"The spooks?"

"The spies," corrected Anderson, his tone disapproving. "You know one of them is being put up for a Spectre candidency."

"No shit?" Like most Alliance Marines, Alan never fully trusted the SAI 'spooks'. Marines like him operated with straightforward purposes: protect the good guys, kill the bad guys. But SAI agents always had some hidden agenda under whatever purpose they claimed to be working for.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Laura Roussel."

Shepard's reaction was immediate.

He bolted up from his chair. "ROUSSEL?! The Alliance is letting Roussel become a Spectre!? Have they lost their FUCKING minds?!"

"...Oh, so you've heard of her."

"Heard of her?! She was in my N7 class! I've worked with her! The woman is a sociopath and a god damn butcher! She should be locked up not given unlimited authority!"

Anderson calmly sat back in his chair. "I understand where you're coming from, believe me. What Roussel did on Torfan was...well...monstrous."

"She cut the throats of children. She wasted the lives of good men to gain a few feet of ground. Then when the Batarians surrendered she executed them all."

Anderson pursed his lips and remained silent. Shepard sat back down and continued. "The woman's like a human version of Saren. Get's the job done and doesn't care how many people have to die in the process. Is that really the kind of person we want representing humanity?"

"It's not just up to me," said Anderson, "Jondum Bau, one of the Council's top Spectres, put her forth as a recommendation. If he says Roussel is a good choice they'll listen and then there's the Brass."

"What about them?"

"They're practically skipping at the prospect of another Spectre for humanity. You have to understand son, you were labled as KIA for two years. Humanity lost a lot of power because you were our only Spectre."

"So the Brass is trying to replace me with their own version of Saren?"

"I fought against it, believe me. But the other candidates just couldn't stack up against Roussel."

"There were other candidates?"

"Several. Lieutenant Williams was actually a contender because of her history with you. But seeing as she's just recently become an S1 and is still enrolled in tactics and strategy courses, it was decided she wouldn't be the best candidate for a Spectre right now."

The mention of Ash made Shepard's shoulder sag almost imperceptibly. But Anderson caught it.

"I heard that you ran into Lieutenant Williams on Horizon."

"...yeah, I did."

"I take it things didn't go well."

"...no, they didn't."

"She does still care for you," assured Anderson.

"Could have fooled me."

"Ashley is just surprised is all. When she went to Horizon she half expected to find the rumors of you being alive to be false. I think she's hurt that you didn't find her first."

"It's not like I didn't want to, I just...I just didn't know where she was."

"She'll come around son. Just give her some time."

Alan nodded solemnly. "It's a shame. Ash would have made a great Spectre."

"That she would have. But the brass has made their choice and that choice is Roussel," Anderson trailed off, "which leads me to something else you're not going to like. The SAI agent in charge of investigating the rise in CAT6 activity."

Shepard rubbed his temple. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Afraid not, Roussel's been on the case for nearly two weeks. Most of the data I have on them is because of her."

"Shit…" Shepard's hadn't talked to Roussel or even seen her since the campaign on Torfan. Their parting had not been on good terms. "Let me guess what you're going to say next. She's on the Citadel and you think I should go talk to her."

Anderson shrugged. "You said it, not me."

Shepard sighed heavily. "Just one pile of shit after another. So where is she?"

"Roussel got here on the SSV _Gettysburg_. She spends most of his time there."

"I guess I'll go check on the _Gettysburg_ first. With any luck she'll be there."

Anderson nodded. "I'll give you a call once I decide to present our findings to the Council."

Shepard stood up from his chair and held out a hand. "I appreciate it sir. Thanks for having my back."

Anderson took the hand and shook it. "Any time."

As he turned to leave, Shepard paused and turned back. "Before I go, I lost a man at the checkpoint. He was with the Alliance before Cerberus, name of Jacob Taylor. He used to serve under a Major Derek Izunami. I was wondering if you could pull some strings and…"

"Put a service together?" Anderson finished.

Shepard nodded solemnly.

"Consider it done."

"Thanks Anderson, I owe you one."

Before Shepard could leave the door to Anderson's office opened and in strode a familiar face.

"Anderson!" said Donnel Udina, "the Council wants to reschedule the meeting to…" The Senator trailed off as he saw Shepard. "Shepard, I didn't know you were back."

"Senator Udina," he gave a respectful nod before moving passed him.

Once the door slid shut behind him, Alan breathed a sigh of relief. He was in no mood to deal with two self-righteous pricks in one day.

* * *

It was a quick 20 minute shuttle ride to the docks where the SSV _Gettysburg_ was being held. After giving his name and flashing his Spectre badge around a bit, the crew informed Shepard that Roussel was on shore. They pointed him in the direction of _Sayzar's Call_ , a night club located in the lower Citadel Wards.

The trip there was just as brief and saw Shepard surrounded in a steel jungle and blinded by the constant presence of neon lights. _Sayzar's Call_ had a particularly bright sign: a curvaceous female of unknown species inside of a beer bottle.

Alan grimaced, he preferred places with a little more class. _Why couldn't she have gone to Dark Star?_

He checked to make sure his Carnifex sidearm was in plain view, so as to dissuade any muggings, and then moved towards the front door. A Krogan stood as bouncer. Shepard flashed his Spectre badge and the bouncer quickly stepped to the side, even holding the door open for him.

The minute he stepped in Shepard was hit by an overwhelming scent of alcohol and sex. _Sayazar's Call_ had a dark and moodily lit interior that consisted of a wide open space filled with a number of comfortable looking seats, all of which surrounded a a T-shaped dancing stage. The club wasn't particularly crowded, as it was still technically the middle of the day, and so the atmosphere was more relaxed than one would have expected.

Shepard saw a good number of men, and some women, sitting at the various booths and seats. All were drinking while watching one of the several scantily clad dancers on stage suggestively gyrating their hips.

One of the customers, a dark haired human female, let out a sharp whistle when one of the dancers stripped off her shorts. Personally, Shepard didn't see what the point of taking them off had been, it wasn't like they had covered much more than her underwear.

As the techno-rythmic music flooded his ears, Shepard searched for Roussel. It had been some time since they had last seen each other, but given the crowd he knew Roussel would stand out. Most of the patrons here were alien. The few humans that were here were clearly not military, on account of either their dress.

Finally, Alan's eyes spotted a lone human woman wearing an Alliance BDU sitting at the bar chatting with a female bartender in a skimpy outfit. That had to be her.

Shepard walked up to her from behind.

"Laura Rouss-"

"Shepard." The familiar British accent confirmed Shepard's suspicions: this was Roussel. The woman swiveled around in her chair so that Shepard could look her straight in the...eye.

It took a moment for Alan to see it in the low light, but eventually he realized Roussel's right eye was covered by a black three strap eye patch. _That's new._

"Try not to stare," the agent remarked dryly as she downed her drink in a single gulp. Shepard's surprise was quickly replaced with annoyance. Same attitude as when they were in the N7 program together.

Physically she had not changed much from what Alan remembered. Roussel was a statuesque woman with sharp Eurasian features and a physique that could be best described as intimidating.

At 5'7, she was shorter than most of the male patrons that visited clubs like this. But she easily exuded far more danger. Her sleeves rolled up so that the well defined bicep of her arms, along with N7 tattoo on her shoulder, were put on full was probably why most people were staying away from her, and why the female bartender kept biting her lip every time she looked Roussel's way.

Annoyed that Shepard was staring, exactly what she'd advised him not to do, Roussel brushed aside a strand of her short platinum blonde hair and swiveled back to face the bartender.

"If you wanna gawk, the dancers are that way." She jabbed a thumb over her shoulder at the stage and then asked the bartender for a refill. Shepard bit back a retort. He refused to play Roussel's game and instead silently took a seat next to her.

"You want anything hon?" the bartender asked.

"I'm fine. Just here to talk to my friend." He flashed his Spectre badge again and the bartender quickly made herself scarce. Roussel let out an annoyed grumble.

"Been a while Roussel."

"Fuck off."

Alan barely kept himself calm. "Excuse me?"

"You're not happy to see me. I'm not happy to see you. So let's skip all the fucking formality and get to it." Roussel turned to look him in the eye. "Either ask what you want to ask or get the fuck out so I can enjoy my goddamn drink."

"Oh fuck you Roussel!" Alan leaned in close. "I don't need to do anything. Least of all take shit from you!"

The SAI agent actually snorted in amusement, then shook her head whimsically. "You're still a fucking poster boy."

"You're still a bitch who doesn't know the first thing about getting along with others." Alan shot back. Roussel ignored him and took a heavy gulp of beer from her glass.

"I suppose now you're going to ask how it happened." She gingerly stroked her eye patch. Though he'd rather not satisfy her smart ass ego, Shepard found himself genuinely curious. So he asked.

"How'd it happen?"

"I don't feel like talking about it," Roussel replied immediately, then took another gulp from her glass. "What I do feel like talking about is why the Council's first Human Spectre is down in this dive trying to squeeze me for information."

Shepard sighed heavily, so far things were going just like he thought they would. Taking a calming breath he said, "Councilor Anderson told me your the SAI agent in charge of monitoring the mercenary organization known as CAT6."

"Heh," Roussel chuckled and waved the bartender for a refill, "wouldn't call them a mercenary organization exactly. More like a small private army that answers to no government, no race, and no higher power."

"So what do they answer to?" As Roussel prepared to down another gulp, but Shepard stopped her by placing his hand on top of the glass. "Answer my question."

Roussel calmly moved her glass away.

"Not money," she finally said. "They aren't like any other merc group. Payment for the majority of their services comes in the form of information, technology, or favors."

"Taking alternative forms of payment is hardly enough to warrant the SAI watching them."

Roussel snorted. "You always were a smart one Shepard." She finished the remains of his drink and waved the bartender for another refill.

"So what's the deal?" he asked, "what's so special about CAT6?"

Roussel sipped her drink and shrugged. "Their purpose I guess. And maybe how they go about doing assassinations, snatch and grabs, robberies..."

"I've heard it all from Anderson."

Roussel snorted again. "But what you haven't heard is that at least half the jobs they do don't have contracts."

Shepard shrugged in confusion. "So?"

"So no one is paying them, and if no one is paying them, the only reason they're doing it is because they want to."

"They're a Merc band that occasionally works for itself. I'm still not seeing what's so special about them."

"Hmm," Roussel took a deep gulp. "You'd have to look at everything they've done to really understand. But once you start fitting the pieces together, you start to see: there's an agenda. Every assassination, every robbery, every random act of violence, it's all working towards something."

"And what is that something?"

"Now that's the big question isn't it?"

Shepard sighed. "Do you even know?"

Instead of answering Roussel stood up and threw some platinum to the bartender, along with a napkin that had her number on it. "It was good seeing you again Shepard. Feel free to attend my anointing ceremony when I become a Spectre."

That tore it for Shepard. He'd had enough of this cocky bullshit attitude, nothing had changed since their N7 days. Roughly he grabbed a handful of Roussel's shirt and nearly slammed the smaller agent against the bar.

"A friend of mine is dead because of CAT6! I need to know why! Do you know what they're after or don't you?"

Quick as a cat, Roussel grabbed him by the wrist and twisted. Shepard was surprised when Roussel actually slipped out of his grip, then shoved him back. Casually, Roussel brushed herself off.

"I heard you've been working with Cerberus," said the SAI agent.

Though caught by surprise, Shepard took the comment in stride. "That's over with now. Once this things with CAT6 is over, I'm coming back to the Alliance."

Roussel looked unconvinced. "You're friend, was he Cerberus?"

Shepard didn't respond, which was enough answer for her.

"Of course he was. I shouldn't even have asked, you always were good at getting people to follow you Shepard. Everyone always saw something in you that I never could." She paused and for a moment the only sound between the two was the music of the club. Finally she said, "I'm afraid that information is classified. If you want access to it, you'll need to file a form with the SAI."

Then without another word the SAI agent exited the club.

"Crazy woman," Shepard muttered under his breath.

* * *

 _CODEX:CITADEL:COUNCIL DEMILITERIZATION ENFORCEMENT MISSION_

 _The Council Demilitarization Enforcement Mission (CDEM) is a task force created in accordance with the armistice that ended the Krogan Rebellions. Based at Pildea station, CDEM's patrols oversee the entire Krogan Demilitarization Zone. Under the armistice, CDEM is responsible for ensuring that the Krogan do not become a galaxy wide threat._

 _CDEM operates battle stations in orbit above Tuchanka and manages the planetary shroud which prevents Tuchanka's surface from heating to inhospitable levels. These battle stations also serve as DMZ checkpoints so that CDEM can log all ship traffic passing through the DMZ._

 _Activity CDEM watches for includes: arms build up, criminal activity, production of ships, production of ship mounted weapons, and creation of organized militaries._

 _Interesting notes:_

 _-Up until 2184, the CDEM patrol fleet was comprised entirely of ships donated by the Turian, Salarian, and Asari fleets. In 2185, the Systems Alliance donated two First-Contact era frigates._

 _-The current ship count of the CDEM patrol fleet is:79 vessels of varying build and tonnage._

 _-Since the deployment of the Genophage, the CDEM has had no major operations and in recent times the task force has been compared to "mall cops". As a result much of their equipment is outdated, due to lack of Citadel funding._


	9. Chapter 6: Conspiracy & Politics

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

 **Old one Griffin:** _Thank you! It seems I did my job with Roussel since the overwhelming consensus from readers is that she needs to be taken down a notch._

 _ **Drygen:** Thanks, I was hoping I could keep people interested even with not action._

 _ **RabidArmenian:** "Ah yes, Reapers", I always loved that line and meme._

 _ **Corvo Attano-TheLordProtector:** Hey there Corvo! I'm a big fan of your games!_

 _ **Interested Guest:** Thank you! I appreciate your review!_

 _ **review:** Maybe, maybe not, you'll have to wait and see._

 _ **Cirg:** Thank you, I hope you enjoy the coming chapter._

 **Author's Note: I apologize that you all had to wait a month for this. Another short chapter with a bunch of exposition and setting up. But the good news is that in the next chapter we'll get into some real meat. I can't promise there will be a lot of action but the story will definitely move forward. Those of you who wanted more Revan in the story, the end of this chapter is for you.**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 6 - Conspiracy & Politics**

* * *

 **2 Hours Ago**

Inside a well lit circular room, on a too comfortable smart foam chair covered in high quality black leather, Councilor David Anderson sat with the three fellow representatives of the major powers in the galaxy. The four of them sat equal distance around a luxurious round silver table with a projector in the middle.

Though the average Citadel citizen believed all Council meetings were held at the top of their tower, the truth was that the tower was reserved only for work that required the public be involved. The majority of Council meetings were held in a discreet room, the location of which few were privy to.

It was here that some of the most important political decisions were discussed and debated. The kind of decisions that could affect the state of the entire known galaxy.

"All those in favor of moving the Hanar urinals into the public restrooms?" Councilor Tevos raised her hand.

Anderson pinched his nose and stifled a sigh. If he ever heard about Hanar urinals again in the next thousand years, it'd be too soon. Reluctantly he raised his hand. He was followed by Sparatus and Valern, who were equally eager to move to a different subject.

"And with that pleasant topic out of the way, we may move on to more pressing matters."

"I still can't believe that made it to our table at all," huffed Anderson.

"What is the human saying? 'Where there is a will, there is a way'? The will of some sentients on seemingly insignificant subjects never fails to astound me," said Valern.

Sparatus shook his head in dismay. "All because of one Asari with a disgusting fetish."

"Actually, Urophillia is quite common in-"

"Gentlemen, if you're quite finished complaining there are other subject matters that require our attention," said Tevos.

Anderson was thankful. Whatever strange trivia Valern was about to spout, he wasn't in the mood to deal with. Tevos tapped on the haptic keypad in front of her and the projector in the middle of the table produced an orange hologram of their next subject matter: Aria T'Loak.

"Valern, I believe this one is yours." Tevos swiped the keyboard to her left and it circled the table till it came to a stop in front of the Salarian councilor.

"Thank you Tevos. As you all know, STG has been keeping a closer watch on the Terminus systems and has as of late, been reporting increased activity. Specifically, agents report Aria T'loak mobilizing the Terminus warlords, having their pirate fleets move closer to the borders."

Anderson didn't know much about the 'Queen of Omega' other than the usual gossip. But he had a hard time believing that a single Asari could have that much influence over the hardened warlords of the Terminus.

"She can just tell them to do that?" he asked.

"Aria's influence is considerable," answered Tevos. "She is not simply the criminal overlord of Omega. She is also the unofficial head of state for the entirety of the Terminus system. At her word, The Four would unleash their fleets for war. Though they would do so out of fear of Aria, not loyalty."

"Which of The Four has she moved?" asked Sparatus.

"Thog Kay'tor."

The Turian Councilor let out a low growl of resentment, Anderson couldn't blame him. Though new to political circles, he had heard plenty of the infamous Thog Kay'tor during his time in the Navy. Kay'tor was a Krogan Terminus warlord with a considerable fleet at his disposal.

During the Rebellions, he had made a name for himself as Void Master of the Krogan fleet. Many of the space battles won by the Krogan against the Turians could be attributed to his strategies. At the end of the Rebellions, Kay'tor had fled to the Terminus and built himself back up raiding Citadel transports and patrols.

"Beyond moving them, has Aria ordered Kay'tor to do anything else with his fleet?" asked Tevos.

"No. But some agents have been reporting arms purchases and recruitment drives. Analysts believe that Kay'tor is building his forces, preparing for...something."

"It could just be a show of force," suggested Anderson, "during a period of time in humanity's history known as The Cold War, nations built up stock piles of nuclear weapons. Never with the intent of using them on one another, but as a warning. They even detonated a few. Called them tests, but really they were subtle threats."

"I agree with Councilor Anderson. Though a depraved dictator, Aria did not get to where she is by being stupid. Neither side would survive if war were to break out. She knows better than to try anything."

Anderson saw Tevos, almost imperceptibly, roll her eyes. Clearly the Asari Councilor had a different opinion on the matter, but chose not share it.

"Still, we cannot simply ignore the presence of a foreign fleet on our borders," pointed out Valern.

"Agreed," said Sparatus, "I motion to increase patrols along the Terminus border. If Aria wishes to play the game of who has the bigger gun, then we should show strength and indulge her."

"I second this motion." Valern raised his hand. Tevos and Anderson raised their hands almost at the same time.

"The _Destiny Ascension_ and its battle group have just recently finished their victory cruise. Instead of returning to the Citadel, perhaps we should have Matriarch Lidanya redirect to the Citadel."

"Is that wise? Sending the Citadel's most powerful ship away from the Citadel?" asked Anderson.

"The _Unassailable_ can continue maintaining the Citadel's security while the _Destiny Ascension_ is away," said Sparatus, referring to the massive Turian dreadnought that had taken the _Ascension_ _'s_ place as the Citadel flagship while it had undergone a year of repairs for damages suffered fighting the Geth and Sovereign.

"Agreed. Very well then, let us move on. Councilor Anderson, I believe you have the next item on the itinerary."

Anderson was almost caught by surprise. Three hours of debating other people's problems tended to make one forget about their own. Valern slid the haptic controls to Anderson. He activated his Omni-tool and uploaded the files necessary for his presentation.

He cleared his throat, then began. "Councilors, as you no doubt remember, about three months ago Commander Shepard returned to us."

As expected, Sparatus let out a small groan. Valern and Tevos however perked up attentively in their seats.

"He came to us, asking for aid in stopping the abduction of human colonists on the fringe of Alliance territory. This Council refused aid and instead simply returned to him his Spectre title."

"We were all there Anderson," Sparatus interrupted. "Please skip to whatever ridiculous request the Commander is making now."

"No request Sparatus. I'm simply here to inform you that the Commander has successfully completed his mission. The threat to the colonies has been eliminated." He activated his Omni. "I'm sending you all Commander Shepard's report on his mission. It's got all the necessary details, along with plenty of footage taken from his helmet cam."

The other Councilors quickly opened the files and began skimming them.

"I'll give you all a short summary. The Collectors were the ones responsible for the abduction. Commander Shepard led a team through the Omega-4 Relay and destroyed the center of their operations, a massive space station."

"Fascinating," commented Valern. "Travel through the Omega-4 Relay has always met with failure in the past, of the lethal kind. How was Shepard able to...ah, an IFF tag, advanced safety protocols, a black hole. Fascinating, simply fascinating." His eyes darted back and forth, easily combing through the report with the hyper speed typical of his species. "A shame that the base was destroyed, it could have given us a great deal of insight."

Anderson scowled. "That station was a monument to atrocities against my species! I'm sorry avenging the death of millions of humans got in the way of your 'insight' Councilor."

Tevos, ever the mediator, immediately stepped in. "Councilor Anderson, no one is trivializing the death of your people. We all feel regret over their loss, Goddess light their way."

 _I'm sure you do_. Anderson had to restrain himself from vocalizing his skepticism.

"Of course. I meant no disrespect Councilor Anderson," said Valern. "I suppose I allowed my love of the sciences to become a bit detached from the situation."

Anderson simply crossed his arms and nodded.

"At least this time he didn't let them scurry off to Spirits-know-where," Sparatus commented gruffly. Anderson allowed him to have that one. Personally he hadn't been particularly on board with Alan's decision to let the Rachnai Queen on Noveria go either.

"What were the colonists being used for?" asked Tevos.

"Apparently the Collectors were liquefying them."

"Liquefying them? What for?"

Anderson paused. This would be tricky. According to Alan, the colonists had been liquefied to provide life to a Human Reaper. But if he mentioned the 'R-word', the he'd immediately lose their attention. That, and he'd have to endure hearing Sparatus' skepticism.

"Shepard's report says that they were being used as some sort of power source for a machine the Collectors were building."

"Black Watch teams that have had encounters with the Collectors report technology more biological than mechanical," said Sparatus. "But why target Humans specifically?"

 _Because the Collectors work for the Reapers. And Shepard, a Human, killed a Reaper. And if you'd all just listen for five god damn minutes you'd see that the Reapers are real and-_

Anderson shrugged. "I can't answer that one. Maybe Humans were just the first step and they were planning on experimenting with other species later."

"Hmmm. Then I suppose we should be grateful for the Commander's use of excessive force for once."

"Thank you for sharing this with us Anderson. We will review these files and meet with the Commander at a later-"

"There is something else I'd like to talk about, while we're all in the same room." Tevos gave him a look that made it clear she didn't appreciate being interrupted, but Anderson ignored it.

"While on his way back to the Citadel, Commander Shepard discovered a threat to the safety of Citadel space."

"Don't tell me...the Reapers," Sparatus said sardonically.

Anderson fixed the Turian Councilor with a cold glare. "No, Councilor Sparatus, it is not the Reapers. But you might wish that it had been."

Sparatus returned Anderson's glare, but said nothing more.

"Councilors. I regret to inform you that the security of the Krogan DMZ has been compromised."

* * *

 **Present Time**

"Whoa, whoa, wait. You just went out and said it?" asked a wide eyed Shepard.

Anderson nodded. "I did."

"Well...what happened after that?"

"They were skeptical, obviously. Then I showed them the footage you took."

"How'd they take it?"

* * *

 **1.5 Hours Ago**

Locked inside the sound proof walls of the meeting room, Councilor Sparatus took in the sight of the Krogan Anti-Air emplacement with as much calm as he could.

"THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE! WE NEED TO MUSTER THE FLEETS! SEND IN AN OCCUPATION FORCE! STRIP THOSE BARBARIANS OF EVERY WEAPON THEY HAVE BEFORE ANOTHER REBELLION STARTS!"

Tevos meanwhile attempted to maintain her poise, but failed to stop herself from nervously wringing her hands.

Valern was already compiling a report to the STG.

* * *

 **Present Time**

"...Well, it wasn't pretty. But I think we can safely say they're on our side."

Shepard smiled. "That's the best news I've had in a week."

"Speaking of good news," Anderson activated his Omni, "The SAI sent the files you requested."

"Finally, those guys are worse than customs agents."

After his meeting with Roussel, Alan had had no choice but to do as she had suggested and filed a request with the SAI for the information on CAT6. The return message acknowledging his request had been sent almost instantly and so Alan had gotten his hopes up that he would get what he wanted soon. But the SAI's definition of soon turned out to be a full seven days, filled with background checks and paper work reminding him that divulging classified intelligence to anyone outside the Alliance was treason and would result in "enforcement".

Alan was pretty sure "enforcement" meant mysteriously disappearing forever. He was also pretty sure that Roussel would be the one doing the "enforcement".

"Here it is," Anderson sent the files to Shepard after making a copy of the files for himself, "all the data from the CAT6 investigation."

Once his Omni received the files, Shepard immediately began skimming through them. Most of the files had been filled out by Roussel and to the agent's credit, each one provided a wealth of information Shepard would have never gotten otherwise. There was too much to sift through by himself, but his quick look over made Shepard believe that it had almost been worth the wait.

"I think I'll head back to the _Normandy_ and look this over with my crew. But before I go, when can I expect to meet with the Council?"

"Tomorrow. They're eager to get your story but right now they have the unpleasant task of informing their respective governments that the Krogan might be rebelling again. I'll have to do the same with the Senate."

"Ech, can't say I envy you."

"And I can't say that I'm jealous of reading all those reports."

Shepard smiled. "I've got a few people on my crew that might make that a bit easier."

* * *

 **Citadel Docks**

After making a quick stop at Huerta Memorial Hospital to check on everyone, Shepard caught a shuttle back to the _Normandy_. As he approached the boarding airlock something caught his eye. He paused midway to the airlock and leaned over the walkway railing to get a better look at it.

On the _Normandy's_ bow, two angry black cuts marred its otherwise pristine armor. It looked as though someone had tried to cut the ship's proverbial throat. Shepard remembered that they had been put there by The Wrath's laser swords. What kind of melee weapon could leave a mark on Silaris armor?

As he stared at the scars on his ship, Shepard brought a hand up to his throat and rubbed it.

"Don't worry old girl. We'll make him pay."

* * *

 **SSV Normandy SR2**

Shepard passed through the airlock's decontamination protocols and entered the bridge. As he entered he heard an unusually large amount of shouting coming front the cockpit.

"How!? We're a heavy frigate! He had swords!"

 _"To say that The Wrath used swords incorrect Jeff. In truth, I cannot be sure what his weapons are until I can obtain more conclusive scans."_

"EDI, you're not listening to me. Us, ship. Him, swords. How is it that the current score is Us zero, Him one."

There was a pause.

 _"You are upset."_ EDI concluded.

"Some pycho space samurai Shredder cosplayer cut you up! You're damned right I'm upset!" In his rage the pilot slammed a fist on the arm rest of his chair. It turned out to be a mistake."AGH! Damn it. I think I cracked a finger bone."

 _"Are you alright?"_

"I'm fine," Joker grumbled.

 _"I can tell when you are lying Jeff. You should report to medical."_

"I said I'm fine. Now let's finish filling out this repair order."

Shepard decided to leave Joker and EDI continue without him. Joker evidently needed more time to cool off and Shepard needed to assemble the right people to help him look through this data. As he passed through the CIC, he came across Security Officer Howards speaking to Crewmen Matthews. The Security Officer had a sullen look on his face.

"It's not your fault Burt."

"Heh. You know, no matter how many times you tell me that it's not going to change how I feel."

"It's not your fault!" Matthews insisted, "that assassin took on Grunt, Jack, Zaeed, hell it took Samara to finally beat him. There's no shame in what happened."

Burt sighed. "I just can't help feeling so damned useless. Couldn't do hardly anything when the Collectors came. Couldn't do anything this time either. What kind of security officer can't even protect the crew?"

"No one here blames you for any of that."

"Yeah? Well they should."

Again, Shepard chose not to involve himself. He sympathized greatly with Burt. Feeling useless was of the worst things a soldier could feel, it was even worse for a commander. Memories of Elysium threatened to spring back up, but Shepard repressed them furiously.

He made a mental note to maybe talk to Burt later. Truth was with his team a strong dedicated ship security force wasn't usually warranted. But recent events had proven that to be a mistake that needed to be rectified.

But all that could wait. Right now, he had an XO to find.

* * *

Upon arriving at Miranda's door, Shepard found it locked. He pressed the red button on the intercom set up outside and waited the light tone that indicated a connection with the other side.

"Miranda, it's me. Do you have a moment to talk?"

There was a pause.

 _"One moment please,"_ he heard her say. Shepard patiently waited for a few brief minutes before the holographic rune on the door switched from red to green and the door slid open, revealing Miranda standing in the door way.

"Commander," she saluted, "please come in."

Shepard returned her salute and did as she bade. Miranda took her usual spot in the chair behind her desk and Shepard took his usual spot in the chair on the other side.

"Please excuse the mess. I've not had time to clean up as of late."

Shepard took a moment to examine the 'mess', which consisted of a few scattered data pads and styluses. It was hardly a pigsty. But Miranda valued organization above all things. For her to just leave these items lying about with no clear purpose was a sign that something was off.

"Sorry I haven't been in the _Normandy_ much lately. I imagine it's been a lot of work."

"It's fine Commander," she said a little too steadily.

"How have you been?" Shepard asked, hoping for some clues. Of course Miranda immediately caught on.

"If you are wondering as to what my mental and emotional state of being is, I can assure you that I am not compromised."

Shepard raised a brow to make known his skepticism. Miranda sighed and began drumming her fingers rapidly on her desk. He didn't want to push her, but he had to. He had to know where her head was at. People thought that Miranda had ice water running through her veins, but Shepard knew better than most that she was just as human as he was.

"Mr. Taylor was-"

"Mr. Taylor?" Miranda never called Jacob Mr. Taylor unless she was annoyed with him.

Miranda winced and Shepard could tell that she was silently berating herself.

"Jacob..." she started again, "...and I were close, that is true. It is also true that I felt the sting of his loss more acutely than I have the loss of other colleagues. But I know how to deal with loss. I have had to before."

Shepard knew that she was lying. Her tone was level, her eyes did not twitch around, and her posture was perfect. Even under close observation it seemed that Miranda was indeed fine. But a gut feeling, something that had led him true many times, told Shepard that she wasn't.

Still, even if she was lying, it was clear that she wasn't ready to admit it.

At least not to him.

"Alright," he nodded, "if you're fit for duty, then I'd like your assistance with something."

She returned his nod. "Of course Commander."

"Good. Meet me in my quarters in 5 minutes. I have to get Garrus, we'll need his help on this too."

"Very good. I'll just finish a few things up here before going."

Shepard gave her one more nod, stood up, and turned to leave. As he began to step through the door, it occurred to him that he had not informed Miranda of something important.

"Miranda," Shepard turned around to face her. She was still sitting in her chair. "When I met with Councilor Anderson, I told him about Jacob. He agreed to put together a service for him."

Miranda took in a quiet yet sharp intake of breath and swallowed. Her eyes wandered down to her desk for a few moments before reconnecting with Shepard's.

"Thank you Commander. It's what Jacob would have wanted."

* * *

92.6 seconds.

That's how long it had taken Garrus to field strip his Mantis rifle. Before he'd had his right arm chopped off by The Wrath his record for field stripping his rifle had been half that time. It was just another item added to a growing list of abilities he'd taken for granted.

"Damn it."

Experimentally, Garrus flexed the mechanical fingers of his new prosthetic limb. They still felt stiff and their movements had a near imperceptible delay. He'd spent hours last night recalibrating the damn thing and it still didn't feel like it moved quite right. The soft whirring of the motors inside also irritated him every time he used it. But the worst of it was how it felt, or rather, how it didn't.

Garrus ran the talons of his prosthetic over the barrel of his Mantis.

Before he would have been able to feel the coolness of the metal and the perfect smoothness of its design. But with this new hand, all he felt was the dull bump of the receptors feeding acknowledgements to his nerves. He hated that. Though on some level he noted that it provided him the advantage of not feeling any pain.

"Come on Vakarian. Moping never solved anything." Garrus moved from his rifle to his sidearm: a Ventis.

Supposedly designed by a former member of Black Watch, the Ventis was the standard sidearm of all Hierarchy special forces. It was favored for its incredible heat management systems, which allowed 15 high powered shots before overheating, and its unique ability to switch from single shot, to three round burst, to fully automatic.

It was a weapon exclusive to Black Watch and high ranking officials. To own one was an indicator of skill and service. Garrus had received his the day he'd chosen to join C-SEC instead of Black Watch, as a gift from his father. That day had been one of the happiest days of his life, because it had also been the only time Garrus had ever heard his father say: _'I'm proud of you'_.

His father. His mother. His sister.

It suddenly occurred to Garrus that it had been a long time since he'd had contact with any member of his family. The last time he'd talked to any of them was after he'd quit C-SEC. That had not been a pleasant conversation.

His mother and sister had been understanding.

His father had been furious.

Looking down at the pistol his father had gifted to him, Garrus could still hear the words his father had said to him that day, and they stung horribly.

His father hadn't roared and ranted. That wasn't his way. All he did was say four words: _"You have disappointed me."_

Garrus loudly slammed the Ventis on the work bench. But before he could sink further in his rage the door behind him suddenly slid open.

His instincts screamed: _AMBUSH! GUN! H_ _OSTILE!_

"Hey thWHOA!" Shepard jumped back when he saw the Ventis aimed at him.

"Shepard?" It took Garrus a moment to realize that he had just drawn a gun on his best friend. Timidly he lowered his pistol and switched the safety back on.

"Garrus...you okay?" Shepard asked, a hand cautiously held out in case he needed to throw up a barrier. The Turian barely heard his friend's words as his heart hammered deafeningly inside of his chest.

"Yeah...yeah...sorry I...I um..."

"It's alright Garrus." Shepard slowly lowered his hand. "Is it Omega again?"

"Kind of," he lied.

Two years of operating on Omega had instilled within Garrus a sort of high functioning paranoia. Every time he walked into a room his first priority was finding the best escape route. Every time he went to sleep it was with his Ventis underneath his pillow. And every time a door opened, Garrus expected a gangbanger with a shotgun hoping to kill Archangel.

It had been worse before, when he first stepped on the new _Normandy_. A dozen similar incidents of him drawing on crew members had happened before Garrus had started feeling safe enough to let down his guard.

"So uh...what did Councilor Anderson have to say?" asked Garrus, eager to change the subject.

Shepard smiled understandingly. "Good news. The Council is taking me seriously for once. I'm meeting with them tomorrow to give a personal debrief of the situation."

Garrus' mandibles twitched in surprise. "That _is_ good news."

"That's not all."

"Whoa Alan. Two pieces of good news in a row? Now I _know_ your pulling my quills."

"Heh, nope! I stopped at Huerta on the way back. Jack and Zaeed have been let out, they'll be back here soon."

"Glad to hear it. Been getting a serious case of ship fever with only a hyper active Salarian and a surly Krogan with tiny hands to keep me company."

"Heh, I can imagine. So what are you doing up in the armory? Usually I got to go down to the main battery to find you."

"Just a little bit of weapons maintenance. Jacob usually did it." Garrus left it at that and Shepard nodded solemnly.

Just like Shepard, Garrus had been extremely skeptical of working with Cerberus. He had been with Shepard when they had assaulted the secret Cerberus labs and discovered the horrific experiments being done inside. And just like Shepard, it was Jacob that had first started earning his trust.

"Well, if you've got some time. I could use an extra pair of eyes to look over the files on CAT6."

Garrus made the Turian equivalent of a smirk. "Making me use my brain huh? And here I thought I was just here for my good looks."

* * *

 **Tuchanka**

A gust of hot dry air caressed Wreav's scaly pitted face as he and two of his bodyguards strode down the dark hall. Thousands of years ago, this same hall would have been painted with murals in remembrance of great battles fought and decorated with the skulls of worthy enemies slain. But time and the elements had destroyed its beauty, leaving only the sandy brown stone beneath it.

The hall he walked through belonged to the building that had once served as the Urdnot shipyard. During the prime of the Krogan, many terrifying battlebarges had been birthed from its womb. As Wreav exited the hall out onto a rusted, yet sturdy, catwalk overlooking a massive kilometer long docking bay, he thought he could almost hear the pounding of industrial hammers and the heat of welding torches being used by the war smiths.

But the only thing left in the bay was the ruined wreckage of an unfinished battle barge. Had it been finished, it would have been the terror of a hundred planets. Instead the Council with their CDEM had aborted its future. Just as the Salarians had aborted the future of the Krogan with the Genophage.

 _They'll pay. They'll all pay_. Wreave promised himself that.

The Chieftain and his two bodyguards moved deeper towards the back of the docking bay. There they spotted their destination, a small landing pad.

In the past it would have been used for construction shuttles that hauled massive pieces of material to be used in building a battle barge.

Now though, only a single ship of black and gray metal sat on it. It was a ship unlike any found in either Citadel space or the Terminus. Everything about it radiated an alien origin, from the unfamiliar material that made up its hull to the peculiar non-streamlined shape.

As they approached the alien ship, Wreav noted that the boarding ramp was lowered. Standing on it was a single slim figure using a welding torch to perform, he assumed, maintenance. Upon getting to the foot of the boarding ramp, Wreav found he recognized her.

She lifted the welding mask, revealing her face to them. Her facial features were akin to an Asari's, she even had blue skin. But she was not an Asari. From what Wreav remembered, she was a member of a race beyond his galaxy's stars, called: Twi'leks.

Behind her head, he could see the pair of head tails that distinguished her origins. Upon seeing them her delicate mouth formed an annoyed frown.

"Boss didn't say you were coming," she said rather casually.

"I came of my own prerogative," Wreav explained.

"Good for you."

"Insolent creature!" the bodyguard to Wreav's right bellowed, "you speak to the Chieftain of Clan Urdnot! Beg for mercy now and perhaps he will not-"

Wreav quickly raised a hand to silence the bodyguard.

"Do not speak for me," he warned. Turning his attention back to the Twi'lek, he noted that her free hand had dropped to one of the two pistols holstered at her waist. Wreav ignored the subtle threat.

"I must see Him. You _will_ summon Him."

The Twi'lek seemed to contemplate his orders for a moment, before finally placing the maintenance torch in a tool bag.

"Wait here," she said, then disappeared into the ship.

Wreav bit down a snarl. Despite chiding his bodyguard's behavior, Wreav felt an unimaginable desire to smash the puny Twi'lek to paste. Who was she, a female and an alien, to speak to him with such candor? She was nothing but a servant! She ought to be begging for the honor of licking clean his boots!

Such firey vengeful thoughts were immediately doused, when the Twi'lek returned and with her, her master.

Wreav swallowed.

 **"Urdnot."**

"Wrath."

Wreav nodded respectfully, though it galled him to show respect to a foreigner. The Wrath seemed to sense Wreav's hidden thoughts and fixed him with a hard stare. Wreav, in an attempt to stand his ground, tried to meet The Wrath's stare. But the moment he looked into those cold black eyes, he was overwhelmed with the unconquerable instinct turn away.

 **"You interrupted my meditations. I hope you have a good reason."** As he spoke The Wrath slowly began to circle Wreav's group.

"I do," Wreav responded stiffly. "I have just finished meeting with the Chieftains of Clan Halya and Clan Olok."

 **"And?"**

"And they have submitted to my rule. Regardless of what the remaining Clans say, I am now effectively King and War Master of Tuchanka."

 **"My congratulations to you, your Highness,"** The Wrath did not even try to disguise his mocking tone. **"But you _will_ meet with the remaining Chieftains, and you _will_ convince them to stand by your side."**

"Why? I now lead an army far greater than any of them could muster, even if they were to combine forces. We should simply wait for them to fall in line."

 **"Urdnot Wrex's fatal mistake was believing that you would never pose a threat to his reign. Do not follow in his footsteps."**

Being compared to his bastard brother irked Wreav's temper. "Never."

 **"I am glad to hear it."** The Wrath finished circling the three Krogan. **"And how go the _other_ preparations?"**

"They go well. We should be ready in a month."

 **"You have two weeks."**

Wreav's eyes widened.

"I...I cannot work miracles." His surprise soon turned to anger. "And you have not yet fulfilled every promise you gave me. Perhaps before I order my people to continue, you should-"

The Wrath took one step closer.

"...you should..."

And just like that the fire that had burned so brightly in his belly was reduced to but a cinder. Wreav tried to reignite it, but then The Wrath took another step.

"...you..."

The fire was gone now and its ashes had been scattered in the wind.

Another step and the two of them were practically nose to nose. Wreav towered over The Wrath by at least two feet and outweighed the Sith by at least 800 pounds of muscle. Yet it was quite clear which of them was truly in charge.

 **"Do not forget, your Highness, that your crown can be worn by another."**

Wreav instinctively snarled. "Is that a threat?"

 **"Yes."**

Without another word The Wrath turned back to his ship, not even bothering to dismiss the Krogan.

"You can go now," said the Twi'lek, an amused look on her face as she smugly leaned against the wall of the ship.

Barely biting down a his anger, Wreav swiveled around and marched back the way he had come. When he was sure he was far enough not to be heard, he let loose his frustration in a single deafening roar.

* * *

 **Normandy SR2**

Shepard and Garrus entered the Commander's quarters. True to her word, Miranda was already there waiting for them. She stood up from the corner couch.

"Great, we're all here," said Shepard as he and Garrus made their way to Miranda. "I've asked you both here because among our team you two have the most experience with investigative work."

Shepard activated his Omni and produced two copies of the files given to him by the SAI. He sent them to Garrus and Miranda who began looking through them on their own Omni-tools.

"These are files from the SAI on CAT6. There's a lot of data, so I need your assistance in working through it all. Between the three of of us we just might find something that gives us a trail. One we can follow to the the ones behind all of this."

"So we can put a bullet in their head," Garrus finished. Miranda nodded in agreement.

"Exactly." Shepard sat down on the couch. "But like I said: there's a lot here. So let's split the work up evenly and get to it."

After establishing who would look at what, the three of them began their work. As expected, Garrus' experience as a detective for C-SEC and Miranda's time as an intelligence operative with Cerberus proved invaluable. Both burned through their work at an incredible rate and efficiently pointed out details of note. Shepard was rather slow in comparison, though N7s were trained to be observant they were never specifically trained for this.

Still, Shepard did his best. When Miranda and Garrus finished their portions, he gladly gave them bits of his own. After two hours of reading through the data and jotting down notes, the three had come up with a comprehensive list of possible leads.

Then began the process to see if any of it would help them.

Garrus started off their review.

"You're friend Roussel-"

"She's not my friend," interrupted Shepard. After having seen Roussel, he had returned to the _Normandy_ and promptly complained about her to Garrus.

"...right. Roussel was telling the truth when she said CAT6 isn't like any normal merc band. Some of these files date back as far as five years."

"Can't believe the SAI has been investigating them for that long," said Shepard.

"It's not that uncommon. Standard operating procedures for any intelligence bureau is to keep eyes on any possible points of interest, even if there is no ongoing investigation," explained Miranda.

Shepard nodded. "So what do you mean Roussel is right?"

"Well, all the earliest reports on transactions they had with the Shadow Broker."

"A lot of merc bands do business with the Shadow Broker," Miranda pointed out.

"Yeah, but look at this report." Garrus pulled up a screen with his Omni-tool and showed it to them. "An information data package intercepted by an SAI Agent. It contained numbers on the standing military power of all races."

"Military power?"

"Yeah, things like number of ground troops, fleet sizes, and weapons technology. The Alliance, the Republics, the Hegemony, Spirits even information on my people was on there."

Shepard took a loot at the report on his own Omni and frowned. "That's the kind of stuff you'd be looking for if you're planning an invasion."

"It's gets better," assured Garrus. "A report a few months later details a few heist jobs that CAT6 pulled in the Terminus."

"Things get stolen in the Terminus all the time. I'm assuming the loot this time was something special?"

"100,000 tons of non-perishable dried meat."

"Food?"

"They hit a supply ship headed for one of the few independent colonies in the Terminus. Nearly all the colonists starved after that."

Shepard pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm starting to hate CAT6 more and more. But back to the topic at hand. It's a little odd but there's nothing special about food."

"Hold on, I'm not done," said Garrus. "A week after that CAT6 attacked dozens of medical transports. They didn't target the ships of any one government so it just looked like a series of random pirate attacks. But the agent who filled out the report noted that of each transport the main thing missing were sedatives."

"That's even odder than the food," said Shepard.

"And then a week after that, CAT6 started a spree of grand theft auto. They stole every kind of ship under the sun, civilian and military of various makes."

Miranda put the pieces together quickly. "Learning about military strengths and weaknesses. Storing up food supplies. Acquiring transportation. They really are planning some sort of invasion with the Krogan."

In a strange way it made sense, except one thing. "What are the sedatives for?" asked Shepard.

Miranda answered again. "You've worked with Krogan before Commander. Grunt has to be let out of the _Normandy_ on the regular basis or he starts getting rough with the crew."

"Yeah, I remember." Shepard winced at the memory of Grunt challenging everyone to a headbutting competition. "I'm pretty sure I've still got the cracks in my skull to remind me."

"My point is if one Krogan gets surly on his own, what would a bunch of Krogan cramped onto a ship be like?"

"A god damn nightmare. The sedatives are to make sure they don't kill each other?"

"I'll be honest, I've been tempted to shoot Grunt with a tranquilizer gun on occasion," Garrus quipped.

"Okay so things are pointing towards some sort of Krogan invasion. But why? Are the Krogan paying them? And why try when their species is already in a crisis?"

"I doubt it's the Krogan doing the paying. Remember what Wrex said, Wreav had a benefactor."

"Which we know to be The Wrath." Garrus mechanical arm clenched audibly upon saying it.

"Right. So the big question is then: who is The Wrath?"

"I've actually been trying to find that out," said Miranda. "I took a look at all the dossiers for CAT6 members of note."

"And?"

"And nothing. At least nothing that looks promising. None of these dossiers have anyone that fits The Wrath's profile."

"Are you sure you did it right?" asked Garrus. "I mean it's not like we ever got a good look at him under the helmet."

Miranda rolled her eyes. "Please Vakarian. I'm not looking based purely on look. There are other factors that I can use to find a match. Such as his height."

Garrus' mandibles flared curiously. "I'm sorry, I must have missed the part of the fight where you took a tape measurer and-"

"I guessed his height from memory," interrupted Miranda.

This time Shepard was curious. "You can do that?"

"My father spared no expense when...designing me. My memory is almost as good as a Drell's. All that's left to do is analyze the memory. The Wrath is 1.91 meters tall, with a possible deviation of 2 centimeters depending on how much of his height is attributed to his helmet and boots. I can give estimates on his other measurements as well if you like."

"Uh...I'm good," said Garrus. Miranda inclined her chin a bit arrogantly in response.

"Play nice you two," Shepard ordered sternly. He had no patience at the moment for competition amongst the team. "Miranda, you're sure he's not in there?"

Miranda brought up her Omni and brought up an orange screen displaying a series of mug shots depicting various gruff looking men and women. "None of the files provide a match. Some come close and I've tagged them as possibilities, but they don't feel close enough to me."

Shepard sighed disappointedly. "Damn, I was hoping for something. But I guess he wouldn't be that sloppy."

"I did find something that will help though," Miranda swiped two fingers across her Omni's haptic screen, cycling through the pictures of CAT6 members until settling on one. She showed it to them. "Look familiar?"

* * *

 _The lead officer, a man of Asian descent, had regulation length hair that indicated that he was once part of the military._

 _"Commander Shepard," the lead guard spoke with a British accent, "I'm Sergeant Mills, sorry to have to detain you. Please follow me and we'll get this all sorted out as quickly as possible."_

* * *

"Sergeant Mills." The man in the photo was unmistakably the same one that they had encountered at the orbital checkpoint station. The same one who had assisted The Wrath in trying to kill them. Shepard felt anger rise inside of him as he stared at the photo.

"He's a member of those soldiers that wore black armor and had those laser guns right?" asked Garrus.

Miranda nodded. "He was apparently their Captain. The SAI lists him as Lieutenant Nathaniel Lin, but that's probably just a cover name. The Wrath told us his real name: Tyco."

* * *

 _The dozen soldiers in black took up positions behind The Wrath, six on his right, and five on his left. Sergeant Mills, who carried his helmet under his arm, marched to stand next to The Wrath._

 _ **"You're late Captain Tyco."**_

 _Mills, or Tyco as was his real name, lowered his head submissively. "My apologies my lord. Allow me to make amends by eliminating these intruders."_

* * *

"He knows The Wrath. If we can get to Tyco, we can get to him," Shepard realized.

"I'm all for tracking down the bad guys," said Garrus. "But there is the slight problem of him still being in the Krogan DMZ. I want revenge, but with nearly half our team in the hospital I can't say our chances of a rematch with The Wrath will go any better than last time."

"He may not even be in the DMZ anymore," Miranda pointed out. "For all we know they were only there to ambush us. If that's the case then they've likely moved out of he system. They could be anywhere in the galaxy by now."

Shepard exhaled heavily. "Great, so we still don't have a lead."

"That's not necessarily true," said Miranda. She tapped a few keys on her Omni and the profile pictures on her screen were replaced with a miniature model of the Terminus systems. "The SAI also had in their files a list of known CAT6 safe houses, compounds, and command centers."

"So what, we just hit all of them and hope that we just happen to find Tyco?"

"Not exactly. Remember how Tyco reacted when The Wrath admonished him for 'being late'? Do you recall how he responded?"

"He scraped and bowed."

"And he also referred to The Wrath as 'lord'. Nobles haven't held any real power in human culture for hundreds of years. But Tyco clearly reveres The Wrath. If we hit enough of these CAT6 locations to disrupt their operations, and make it clear that it's because we're looking for Tyco, we might be able to draw him out."

Garrus thoughtfully scratched his chin. "We'll make him feel like he's responsible. Then like a good little bootlick he'll rush to fix the problem before his master finds out and punishes him."

Miranda nodded. "Precisely."

Shepard leaned back against the sofa and stared up at the ceiling, deep in thought. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke. "It would be a long shot. A helluva long shot. But it's the only shot we have."

"Then do I have your permission to begin planning?" asked Miranda.

Shepard sat up and nodded. "Permission granted. I'm meeting with the Council tomorrow to present our findings from Tuchanka. I'd like a rough idea of which bases we'll be hitting and in what order before then. Hopefully it'll help them see reason for once and grant us support."

"I'll make it my top priority," assured Miranda

"Garrus, I want you to take inventory and buy supplies. Get anything you think we'll need for this hunt. If we do run into The Wrath again, I want to be prepared."

"Got it. I have a few ideas on how to even the playing field with that bastard."

Shepard smiled. The last week had been hell for everyone. They'd lost a dear friend and been forced to wait and do nothing about it. It had felt like everyone had been drowning under the weight of their own depression. The SAI files had delivered a breath of fresh air.

Now they knew their enemy. Now they had a plan of attack. Now they could finally avenge Jacob.

The enemy had shown them the worst they had to offer in The Wrath. From here on, nothing would catch them off guard.

* * *

 **Aboard _The Exile_**

Revan stood on the bridge of his super dreadnought. The lights had been dimmed and the entrances closed so that the only source of light came from the holo-projector in the center room. Currently that holo-projector displayed a blue holographic bust of Revan's most faithful servant and friend: The Wrath.

 _"The operation on Tuchanka goes well. The Krogan are making good progress despite the ineptitude of their...king."_ The Wrath made no effort to sarcasm as he said it. _"Regardless of Wreav's childish stupidity, we will be ready."_

"I am glad to hear it," said Revan, he paused for a moment as he considered his next words. "How is Vette?"

 _"The same as always. Too smug for her own good. I don't believe she realizes that any of the Krogan could snap her in two with one hand."_

Revan chuckled. "Or perhaps she simply feels safe knowing that she has you to watch over her."

 _"I wish she would be more cautious. I do not have time to train another pilot if she pokes one of them too many times."_

Only with Revan did The Wrath talk this way. Gone was the constant translation of danger through his words. Gone was the subtle body language that conveyed threats. When it was just the two of them, all theatricality was dropped in favor of much more honest conversations. The two of them talked like the old friends that they were.

"One of these days, I will get you to admit that you care for that girl more than you let on," said the Emperor.

The Wrath let out an annoyed grumble. _"I can't admit something that I'm not hiding. She's a good servant, a competent servant. That alone is enough for me to keep her around, nothing more."_

"Wrath, I enjoy being listed as one of the few beings in the galaxy that you call friend. I also appreciate that you keep that list short because you favor quality over quantity. But there's nothing wrong with adding a few more to that list. There is room."

The Wrath crossed his arms. _"You sound like Vowrawn. A few months ago he tried to introduce me to his 37th daughter, said that it was about time I settled down with a nice Sith girl."_

"I've met her. She's pretty, I think you could do worse."

 _"She's an idiot."_

"No one says that you need brains to have a casual intimate relationship. Some women actually prefer to keep things casual."

Revan could tell that The Wrath was frowning behind his mask. _"Those kind of women do not interest me."_

The Emperor decided that he had prodded his friend enough and chose to drop the subject. At that same the door behind Revan slid open with a hiss, admitting one of the bridge crew inside as well as the light of the observation deck.

"Forgive me the interruption my Emperor. But we have arrived at our destination."

"Thank you Ensign. I'll be just a moment." The Ensign bowed and hurriedly vacated the Emperor's presence. Revan returned his attention to the holo-projector. "It seems that I am needed."

 _"I shall return to overseeing the preparations."_

Revan nodded. "I have faith in you my friend."

 _"Thank you, my Master."_ The Wrath bowed and the transmission cut. When Revan was sure The Wrath could no longer hear him, he let out a heavy sigh.

"Please have the same faith in me when I tell you the truth," he whispered to the air.

Revan exited the bridge through the same door the Ensign had entered and stepped out onto the observation deck. As he strode up command walkway to the main viewports, the bridge crew paused in their work to bow to him. He would rather that they not, but part of being Emperor was playing along with how subjects viewed him.

Standing already at the forward view ports and staring out at their destination was Revan's companion in this journey.

"Admiral Kigre."

The admiral, a tall female Rattataki, turned to face him. Like the rest of the crew she bowed upon seeing him.

"My Emperor," she returned to facing the view port. "We've arrived. Your fleet is in position and ready to destroy the entire planet in case things go bad."

"I doubt that will be necessary," said Revan as he moved to stand next to her. "From what I've ready, they seem like a logical people. I'm sure I can make them see reason."

"I wouldn't exactly call them people any more than I'd call droids people," said Kirge.

"Now Admiral, remember that we must remain open minded."

Kirge nodded. "Of course my Emperor. As always I'll handle blowing things up and you handle the talking."

Revan chuckled. "No sense waiting any longer. It is time I made the acquaintance of the Geth."

 _The Exile_ moved towards the planet below. On Rannoch's surface, the Geth's sensors detected the intrusion of Revan's fleet and they recognized it as an unknown entity. A consensus amongst the many programs was reach in exactly 0.8756 seconds.

They would initiate an exchange of information with these unknown new comers.


	10. Chapter 7 part 1: Normandy Strikes Back

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

 **Guest:** _Thank you for your review! I admit I take a bit of pride in my fight scenes._

 **RabidArmenian:** _Yeah, that's kind of what I was going for with Revan. Also, Revan would agree with you that Geth aren't really droids. But people in Star Wars generally don't know what else to call robots._

 **Old one Griffin:** _Thank you! I'm still doing codex entries, its just that the last chapter took so long to get out I felt like it just needed to be released. One about the Fury class ships is definitely a possibility._

 **andrei66699966:** _It's gonna be good :)_

 **hunter 139:** _You're kind words make me smile. I've done a lot of planning before starting this story so to know that I've achieved the right feeling with the Sith is encouraging. Also, don't worry too much about the Reapers, I've already done plenty of research on how to write them when put up against Star Wars ships._

 **Guest 2:** A _ctually a Galactic Empire era Star Destroyer is 1600 meters long while the largest Star Destroyer in SWTOR is only about 800 meters long. So the truth is the movies technically have better technology, it's just that when they were made real life tech wasn't as good._

 **Hi everyone, it's been 2 weeks this time but I managed to pump out a decently long chapter. This one will have some actual action! Wahoo!**

 **Please continue to leave reviews telling me what you think of my story! It's very encouraging to read the feedback!**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 7 part 1– The** _ **Normandy**_ **Strikes Back**

* * *

 **Terminus Space**

 **Polomar II**

Jondum Bau took in a deep breath.

Most would have taken it as an attempt to inhale the crisp fresh air of Polomar II. They would have been wrong. For while the air was clean and the surrounding area was filled with the lush forests the planet was known for, Bau stood in a military compound.

This particular compound belonged to a PMC group known as CAT6, belonged being the operative word. All of its owners were dead. Bau stood surrounded by the corpses of said former owners. With every breath he could smell their death and the smoke of the fires scattered around the compound. His current objective was to find out what had happened that resulted in all these deaths.

With the advances in technology, investigators often relied solely on the apps in their Omni-tools to discover evidence. While those tools were certainly useful, Bau had always found that the tools provided by evolution could be equally as effective. A Salarian's olfactory senses were highly acute and sensitive.

With a single breath through his nostrils, the Salarian Spectre deduced that this attack had happened not three days ago. The smell of decomposition on the bodies was not yet strong enough to be any longer, and the fires smelled more of smoke than flame, indicating that they had not been built recently.

"Jesus fucking Christ! Every time I think I've seen it all this fucked up galaxy throws up another fucked up piece of shit right into my balls."

Bau opened his eyes, he had closed them to better concentrate on his sense of smell. The first thing he saw was the body that he had been standing over. It was a human male, clad in the armor and colors of CAT6.

Many like it surrounded Bau, all with different causes of death. What caused the death of the one at Bau's feet was fairly easy to deduce.

There was a hole the size of a dinner plate in his chest.

"Damn. This motherfucker got fucked up." Bau spared a glance at the corpse's other observer.

A massive and muscular member of his species, the dark skinned human male known as Sergeant Major Tyrone Foley was the leader of Special Agent Roussel's marine escort. Bau had only been introduced to the Sergeant Major a few days ago, but he'd already deduced that the Sergeant Major had a propensity for shouting and profanity.

"Why is it caved in like that?" asked Corporal Sanders, a pale and notably smaller human standing next to Foley. Bau answered his question.

"Whatever hit him did so with tremendous force and precise delivery."

…

 _Corporal Tums had just gotten out of three months of physical therapy after a Krogan from Blood Pack had broken his leg. So when the alarms sounded, he had been absolutely delighted. Killing some pirates, or rival mercs, or whatever was just what he needed._

 _He sighted down his first target, a human male in heavy yellow armor. Was Eclipse attacking them?_

 _Suddenly there was a flash of blue in the corner of his vision. Instinctively he swiveled towards it and came face to face with a human in grey armor. Tums' eyes immediately spotted the red and white stripe and the symbol on the chest plate: N7._

" _Oh shi-"_

 _Before he could finish, the N7 commando launched a fist pulsing with blue fire through his chest. His armor tore like paper, his bones splintered like twigs, and finally his heart exploded._

 _Tums stayed alive just long enough to see the N7 commando pull a blood covered arm back, then teleport away in a flash of blue to kill some more._

…

"That's not even worst of it," said Foley, "if you really want to see something. Look at that pile of shit over there. Some crazy motherfucker went to town with a flamethrower and had a barbecue."

Bau walked over to the pile indicated by the Sergeant. He quickly scanned it with his eyes and deduced that there were no less than a dozen bodies. It was hard to tell since most of the evidence had been reduced to ash.

…

" _Scatter!" warned the CAT6 sergeant._

 _Too late._

" _FRY YOU LITTLE SHITS!" A deadly stream of orange flames gushed out from Zaeed's modified M-451 Firestorm. Having not seen the mercenary till he was too close, over a dozen closely huddled CAT6 mercenaries were transformed into wailing torches._

 _Some died instantly. Others rolled around in a vain attempt to put out the flames._

 _All of them burned._

…

"What the hell is this?" asked Sanders, he pointed at a ball of what looked to be armor plating and meat, seemingly randomly placed on the battlefield. The Corporal lowered his helmet's visor to get a better look and immediately regretted it. "Oh Jesus!"

He stumbled away and threw up.

"That is the aftermath of a Biotic Singularity," explained Bau, who easily walked up to the ball. A quick glance and he guessed it to be a little over half a meter wide in diameter.

"A Singularity? But…don't those just make people float around and shit?"

Bau turned to Foley.

"Kid is still a bit green," explained the Sergeant.

"Lesser Singularities do that. But more powerful biotics can conjure a Singularity that literally pulls and fuses victims together, like so," Bau gestured at the ball.

…

 _Private Robertson advanced in phalanx formation shoulder to shoulder with his squad. Assured that he was safe behind the shield wall, he chanced a peek through the slit at the top of his shield._ _Ahead he saw their target: an_ _Asari wearing a red, and kind of revealing, cat suit. She shot a trooper from another squad with her Acolyte pistol and the man's head exploded in a glorious spray of red._

 _Even as the body fell, Robertson couldn't help but notice that the Asari was a total MILF. Maybe after they'd killed her he could sneak the body off into a quiet corner and have some fun._

" _Face the justice of Athame!" Suddenly her whole body glowed with blue fire. She pumped out a single hand and a Singularity rolled towards the shield wall._

 _Before any warning could be given. Robertson and his entire squad were ripped off their feet and crunched together around the miniature black hole. He felt his helmet compress tighter and tighter, until it had molded to the shape of his head._

 _Then it got even tighter._

…

"So that ball is…"

"Probably at least six dead fuckers, all scrunched and mushed together like ground beef. Armor and all," finished Foley.

Sanders threw up again.

* * *

Bau and his escort entered one of the several prefabricated buildings that had served as barracks for the majority of the mercenaries stationed at the compound. Inside they found Special Agent Roussel standing over many bodies, much like Bau had not too long ago.

"Agent Roussel," the Spectre announced his arrival.

The SAI Agent turned to face him, Bau noted with approval that she was both armed and armored despite the presence of the marines. He'd known too many operatives in intelligence services that forewent preparing for combat themselves because they were given a compliment of soldiers. Many of them were now dead.

As a graduate from the Alliance's Shadow program Roussel wore a set of black Nightmare Mk.V armor. The N7 emblem proudly displayed on her right shoulder piece. The armor was sleek and light, exchanging the protection of heavy armored plates in favor of greater freedom of motion. Very in line with what he'd read about Roussel's method of operation.

She was also far more armed than most agents, who usually carried little more than a sidearm and an Omni. Two X-39 Hellfire shotguns were clamped to her back, cut down versions of the M-11 Wraith that had sawed down barrels, no stock, and kinetic recoil compensators so that they could be fired one handed.

On her right hip hung an M-11 Suppressor, the standard sidearm of the SAI, while her left hip held an M-15 Locust submachine gun. Both weapons had been outfitted with sound and flash suppressors, allowing for covert use, and customized for optimal use in confined space.

Admittedly Bau had initially been skeptical of the agent's choice of load out, which seemed to be overly specialized towards CQC encounters. But given her reputation and the STG report he'd read detailing her abilities and achievements, the Spectre chose to postpone grading Roussel's combat effectiveness until a later date.

The most curious piece in Roussel's arsenal however, was the inward curved knife strapped to her left shoulder pauldron. Melee weaponry was generally something only used by Krogan, who had the mass to do so, or Asari, who were masters of utilizing such weapons with biotics. Perhaps Roussel used it mainly as a stealth weapon, but then why not settle for an Omni-blade?

Bau made a mental note to ask later.

"Bau," Roussel greeted with a nod, then turned to Foley, who snapped a quick salute.

"Ma'am."

"Sergeant, how goes your men's efforts?"

"They were grumbling about it at first so I had to kick their asses a bit. We should have the whole compound combed over in just a few hours."

"Good. You can return to overseeing them. I don't think Spectre Bau requires an escort anymore."

Foley nodded and saluted. "Yes ma'am."

The Sergeant vacated the barracks, taking Corporal Sanders with him. Once they were gone, Bau moved next to Roussel and saw that she was currently scanning a line of dead bodies with her Omni.

"Have you discovered anything of note? Anything that may tell us the identity of who did this?" he asked.

"I have a pretty good idea," she said, "but I want to see the rest of the compound before arriving at a conclusion."

Bau nodded approvingly. "Very well. What have you found here?"

"Whoever took this place down had a Krogan."

"Oh? How can you tell?" From a quick glance of the corpses on the floor and the inside of the barracks, Bau had come to the same conclusion. But part of observing potential Spectres was understanding how they worked.

"Well for starters the door was knocked down, not opened."

…

 _"Come on! Come on! Let's go! Our boys are dying out there!" the CAT6 officer demanded._

 _"We're going as fast as we can!" a soldier shot back, still only half dressed in armor._

 _"Well hurry the fuck up! Whatever is hitting us is on its way-"_

 _The entire building suddenly shuddered and a dozen CAT6 soldiers, plus the officer, suddenly froze._

 _"What the hell was-" The CAT6 officer's sentence was abruptly interrupted when the barracks door suddenly came flying off its hinges and sandwiched him against the wall._

 _A massive Krogan clad in white armor, holding an assault rifle, entered the barracks. A gleeful smile spread on his face as he surveyed the room and its stunned inhabitants._

 _"Knock knock!"_

 _"Shoot him!" someone yelled._

…

"It could have been a biotic," suggested Bau, hoping to test Roussel.

"Maybe. But there are bullet marks all over the room. Krogan are infamous for not aiming, and this definitely was a spray and pray."

…

 _"Hahahahahaha!"_ _Grunt's roaring laughter was almost as loud as the constant chatter of gunfire inside the barracks. He swept his assault rifle back and forth across the room, not bothering to aim in such confined quarters._

 _The CAT6 soldiers added to that symphony with reports from their own weapons. Half of them had not yet activated their shield generators and died quickly. The others managed to land a few dozen shots on the Krogan but they were all absorbed by the hardened non-Newtonian fluid of his Fortification mod._

 _"Weaklings!" mocked Grunt. He charged the survivors, finishing them all with bone breaking melee attacks._

…

"Plus look at this guy," Roussel pointed to on particularly savaged corpse. "There's a Krogan shaped foot print in him."

Bau looked and saw that there was indeed a Krogan footprint where his chest had been caved in.

…

 _"Die maggot!" Grunt brought his foot down on the last survivor. The CAT6 soldier let loose a high pitched scream before the Krogan's foot silenced him forever._

…

"Hm, so there was definitely a Krogan here," said Bau. "What is your hypothesis then? Blood Pack?"

Roussel shook her head. "Just because there was a Krogan here does not mean its Blood Pack. I think I need to see more before I can be sure."

"Very well. On the shuttle ride down I saw that this compound had a motor pool and an airfield. Both looked like they had been the sites of conflict. Which would you like to examine first?"

* * *

Laura decided that since the compound's motor pool was closer it made sense to visit it first. As she and Bau walked there, the SAI agent thought about all the fun ways she was going to royally fuck up whoever had hit this base.

"You seem to disapprove," Bau noticed. "I would have thought you'd be comfortable with such carnage, based on your actions in the Torfan campaign."

Laura scowled, not at all appreciating the mentioning of Torfan.

"I'm completely comfortable with it," she assured. "This shit here, this is nothing compared to what I did in that campaign, or even half the battles I've been a part of. No, what I disapprove of is the fact that some asshole is ruining my investigation. Do you know how long SAI has been monitoring this compound?"

"Six months and twelve days," Bau replied instantly.

"Yeah..." Roussel gave the Spectre a wary look, curious as to how exactly he had known that. She was tempted to just ask, but instead decided to just assassinate Bau after he was done observing her. "Anyway, CAT6 has probably heard about this attack by now. Standard operating protocol for when they get hit like this is cut off all ties. They never come back here and they erase all files of it ever existing from their databases. Which means my job just got a whole lot harder."

"I see. I suppose this would be a situation of, what do humans call it? Stepping on one another's toes?"

"That's about right," nodded Roussel. Once again, she considered all the ways she was going to fuck up the life of the person who had hit this compound.

Upon arriving at the motor pool, Roussel found scenes similar to the ones she'd seen at the barracks. Just like before, CAT6 bodies were strewn about the motor pool in various states of butchery. There were also a number of different vehicles, all of which had been totally destroyed or sabotaged to be unusable.

The SAI agent knelt down by one particularly savaged corpse, though calling it that was a bit generous. It was lying face down on ground, so Laura grabbed it by the back of the head with one hand and lifted up. As she did, parts of the man's _front_ fell off, sticking to the ground like gum.

Laura took a closer look and saw that the entire face, along with a good portion of the soldier's helmet, had been reduced to mush. All that was left were pieces of skull and brain matter.

"I think I can see the brain stem," she commented coldly.

A nearby marine who had been curiously observing started to gag and heave, quickly turning away. Laura just sniffed, adjusted her eye patch, and released the corpse.

"He was smashed into this same spot repeatedly," Laura decided as she stood up. "Probably by a biotic since I don't see any hand prints. Seems like someone's got anger issues."

…

 _"I'M GONNA TURN YOU INTO DOG FOOD!"_ _Jack reached her hand out towards the CAT6 soldier that had broken her barrier and grazed her shoulder with a lucky shot. A blue aura engulfed the doomed mercenary. Jack closed her hand into a fist and raised it up towards the sky._

 _The CAT6 soldier followed her fist into the air. Then Jack ripped her fist down towards the ground and the mercenary was slammed into the dirt with an audible crunch._

 _But Jack wasn't done._

 _"TEACH! YOU! TO! FUCK! WITH! ME!" She screeched, punctuating each word by slamming him down again._

…

"I believe this was once a YMIR heavy mech," said Bau, pointing at a pile of twisted metal.

Laura grunted in agreement. "Looks like it got hit by a powerful Warp. A really, really powerful Warp."

…

 _As Jack continued to toy with her victim, CAT6 combat engineers activated the compound's YMIR mechs. One said mech went striaght towards the raging psychotic biotic, who was too busy venting her anger to notice the two ton war machine coming at her._

 _"ENGAGING TARGET," it calmly announced. The only warning Jack had was the sound of the heavy accelerator cannon in its right arm preparing to fire, before it belched out a storm of tungsten. With her barriers still down, the biotic would have been shredded to pieces._

 _But a streak of blue shot to her side and suddenly Shepard was there, standing between her and the YMIR. The commander threw up his free hand, the other one held his shotgun, and a shimmering blue oval shield appeared. The accelerator rounds struck the shield and disturbed its perfectly smooth surface with a multitude of ripples._

 _"Damn it Jack! I told you to stay with the squad!"_

 _The biotic finally realized that the YMIR had nearly been the end of her. But instead of thanking the commander, she got angry._

 _"Fuck off boy scout! I didn't ask for you to save me!"_

 _"Jack-!"_

 _Whatever the commander was going to say was ignored. Jack wreathed herself in a blue aura, dropping her mass to zero, and launched herself in to the air. As she rose Jack gathered a massive Warp field inbetween her hands. When it reached the size of a beach ball she hurled it at the YMIR._

 _The heavy mech's armor melted almost instantly._

…

"From what I've seen I believe there were at least three biotics involved in the attack, at least one of them was an Asari Matriarch." Roussel crossed her arms then added, "and at least one of them can be classified as a Vanguard."

"I agree, have you completed your assessment?"

Laura took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, contemplating her options as she did. "I'm pretty sure I know who it is. But I'd like to see the air field, just to see if I can prove myself wrong."

"You want to be wrong?"

"A bit. If I'm right, it'll be a bitch to fill out the proper assassination paper work."

* * *

Just like the motor pool and the barracks, the air field was a scene of carnage. Every where she looked she saw the burning wreckage of aircraft, some in worse states than others. She spotted one that looked curiously undamaged, though it had apparently suffered a crash landing.

Upon closer inspection it was easy to see the reason for the crash, the pilot's head was missing.

"The sniper who did this is _very_ good," said Bau.

"This is reinforced combat glass," Laura tapped on the canopy glass of the Mantis gunship for emphasis. "You would need a seriously big gun and an armor piercing mod to break it. Not only that, you'd would need to have dead eye to pull off a head shot on the pilot while the gunship was in the air."

Experimentally, the SAI agent reached for the hole in the canopy glass and found that she had no trouble fitting through. Laura knew her guns like other people knew how to breath. Only an anti-material rifle would have been able to punch through a gunship's canopy so easily.

 _…_

 _100 meters away from the compound, Garrus Vakarian had constructed for himself a nice little nest atop a cliff. The Turian had truly lucked out in finding this spot. It was perfect for him to set up his Widow Anti-Material rifle on its bi-pod and it allowed him a perfect unobstructed view of the entire compound._

 _Through his scope, set to maximum magnification, Garrus saw a CAT6 soldier preparing to fire a missile launcher at Grunt's backside._

 _"That is a foolish thing to do," Garrus whispered. He sucked in his breath, held it, and then calmly squeezed the trigger of his Widow._

 _The Anti-Material sniper rifle let loose a booming report as the accelerator round erupted from the end of its barrel. A moment later and Garrus saw the CAT6 soldier in his scope lose his head._ _Confident that Grunt was out of immediate danger, the Turian sniper shifted his attention to the airfield where some of the pilots had finally made it to their aircraft and were preparing to lift off._

 _One of them was already in the air._

 _"Not today pal," Garrus repeated his earlier process, and once again the thundering sound of his Widow marked the death of another CAT6 soldier. The pilot of the Mantis gunship had just risen to optimal elevation when the accelerator round punched through the canopy and splattered his brain matter across the cockpit._

 _With no pilot to guide it, the Mantis fell like a rock and ploughed itself into the dirt._

 _…_

"So a hostile element, likely squad strength with sniper support, busts its way into the compound and begin killing everyone. They are well armed and well trained," Roussel summarized. "But the big question is why did they attack?"

"It could have simply been a raid, Terminus pirates are known to operate in this sector. Or a rival mercenary group hoping to thin out competition," Bau suggested.

"If it was a rival gang we'd be seeing evidence of a lot more attackers. A pirate raid doesn't make any sense either, most useful vehicles and aircraft we've seen were destroyed, not stolen. No, the ones who did this had a different motivation for attacking. Something personal." Laura placed her hands on her hips and surveyed the entire area. A moment passed and then she nodded to herself.

"Roussel?"

"I know exactly who did this," she said.

* * *

 **SSV Normandy**

 **Deck 3, Port Observation**

Shepard watched with weary eyes as the purple liquid poured from the oblong bottle into his glass.

"What is this again?" he asked.

"Kalvanian Whisky," answered Garrus as he poured himself a glass. "An invention by a Turian scientist who drank too much and had a thing for Human men. She decided the best way to satisfy both urges was to invent a drink that could be enjoyed by both dextro and non-dextro life forms."

The Turian finished pouring his own drink and moved to replace the cap on the bottle. As he did the bottle, still half full, suddenly cracked. Surprised, Garrus instinctively let the bottle go. It would have shattered and spilled its remaining contents on the floor, had Shepard not caught it in time.

"Damn! Sorry..." Garrus shot his mechanical hand a glare. "This thing still isn't working like I want it to."

"It seemed to working fine whenever we went out into the field," noted Shepard as he gingerly placed the bottle onto the table.

"It's only the by the blessings of the Spirits that it hasn't acted up at a bad time."

Shepard could see the frustration in his friend's plated features. "It's been less than a week since you got it Garrus. Remember what the docs said, it's a miracle that it's working as well as it is this soon."

"I know," said Garrus, disappointment clear in his voice. He picked up his glass, with his non mechanical limb, and held it out towards Shepard. "Cheers."

"Cheers." Their glasses met with a clink and then they both took a generous sip.

"Oooooh," Shepard sucked in some air as the liquid burned down his throat, "now that's good. You Turians ought to thank us Humans for being so good looking."

"Heh, I'm pretty sure that scientist had some sort of rare eye disease as well. Made her think ugly was beautiful and beautiful was ugly."

"Uh huh, whatever lets you sleep at night Vakarian."

"You've just got a talon up your ass because I got the higher kill count on that last mission."

"You were camping," reminded Shepard.

Garrus shrugged smugly. "Whatever gets the job done, right?"

Four days.

It had been four days since Shepard had met with the Council and presented his findings on Tuchanka. To his surprise they had been very willing to listen to his opinions on the matter. They agreed that immediate action had to be taken in order to deal with the threat as soon as possible.

Councilor Sparatus had put forward a motion that the Heirarchy's 9th Fleet be mobilized to quell the Krogan "insurrection". Valern had seemed ready to agree. However Tevos had suggested an alternative course of action.

 _…_

 ** _4 Days Ago_**

 ** _Citadel Tower, Council Chambers_**

"For thousands of years, the Krogan have paid the price for their actions against the Council. While the consequences were just and earned, perhaps it is time that we show the Krogan forgiveness."

Sparatus looked shocked. "Y-you can't be suggesting that we simply let them get away with this!"

"No, of course not. The death of thousands of CDEM officers should not go unanswered, will not go unanswered. However, I believe Councilor Sparatus' motion for an application of purely military response is not the correct answer."

Sparatus seemed ready to explode, but Anderson calmed him with a gesture for patience. Meanwhile, Shepard waited for them to ask his opinion.

"What are you suggesting then, Councilor Tevos," asked Anderson in his best diplomatic tone.

"That we at the very least, give the Krogan a chance to stand down before forcing them to do so," she replied almost instantly.

"Preposterous!" Sparatus replied equally fast, "the Krogan speak no language but violence. Need I remind this Council what happened the last time the Krogan were approach diplomatically?"

"I'm inclined to agree with Sparatus," said Valern. "The Krogan have proven time and time again to be very...unreasonable."

"True, but much can change over the course of thousands of years," Tevos pointed out.

Anderson crossed his arms and looked to Shepard.

Tevos' line of thinking was appealing to Shepard, who found Sparatus and Valern's constant use of words like 'bombard', 'destroy', and 'barbarians' fairly disconcerting. He wanted the Krogan stopped, not wiped out. As dangerous as they were, Shepard didn't believe they were evil, or even the real villain of this story. No, that title belonged to The Wrath.

It frustrated Shepard that he could not simply name the true problem. But in order to retain his credibility he would need to bite his tongue for now.

Shepard gave Anderson a confirming nod and the human Councilor nodded back in agreement.

"I believe that she should hear Councilor Tevos's plan, if only to explore all options," Anderson suggested.

The Asari Councilor gave a grateful nod to the Human Councilor, then looked to their Turian and Salarian colleagues. Valern tapped his fingers together briefly before finally giving a confirming nod.

"Very well, in the interest of peace and democracy, I will listen."

"Bah! Fine, let's hear what you have to say," said Sparatus, obviously displeased.

"My thanks to you, venerable colleagues. I realize that my opinion is not a popular one." Tevos took a calculated pause then resumed speaking. "What I propose is this. We send to Tuchanka a diplomatic delegation to offer peace with the Krogan leaders. In exchange for standing down we offer forgiveness, the chance to reintegrate with the galactic community, and negotiate recompense for the tragedies on both sides. The specifics of the negotiation and reintegration can be discussed by this Council at a later date."

Sparatus looked like he was ready to have a heart attack. "You would invite them back into the Citadel?! Tevos don't be foolish! Our ancestors made that same mistake and paid for it with years of blood."

Valern was quick to agree. "Even if we were to send a delegation. We have no guarantee that the Krogan will agree to a meet. They may just kill what diplomats we send. Like last time."

Tevos remained unfazed by their protests and calm in the face of their outrage. "I agree. Which is why I think that we should also send Councilor Sparatus proposed military fleet as an...escort for the diplomatic delegation."

"Offer one hand, but arm the other," Anderson summarized. "With the threat of possible invasion, you hope to pressure them into negotiating."

"It is an unintended benefit, nothing more," Tevos answered tactfully. The innocent way she responded sent a shiver down Shepard's spine. It scared him of how easily and quickly she managed to manipulate words to form these sort of perfect answers.

"It does seem like a fair proposal," said Anderson after a bit of thought. "We would make a show of being peaceful while also ensuring that we're prepared for a fight. I say we try it."

"I still say we should simply bring out our talons and show these barbarians we are not to be trifled with. It's the safest and most logical course of action," said Sparatus.

"Though I would have chosen less colorful language, Sparatus' thoughts on the matter mirror my own," Valern said.

Tevos sighed heavily. "Then we are at an impasse, wonderful."

Things were suddenly looking very bad. At least with Sparatus constantly shouting for the fleets to be sent in, something would get done. But now with Tevos asking for moderation and bogging down the decision process, it looked like nothing was going to get done. Shepard couldn't allow for that.

"Councilors, would it help if you knew my opinion on the matter?" All four representatives of the Council turned their eyes on him. The Spectre suddenly wished he hadn't spoken.

"Commander Shepard has seen first hand what is occurring on Tuchanka," said Valern, "perhaps his words shall change our minds on the matter."

Sparatus grumbled, but relented. "Very well. Speak then Commander, what are your thoughts on how this Council should proceed?"

Shepard took a breath and then began. "As I mentioned before Councilors, I was informed by Urdnot Wrex-"

"A Krogan," Sparatus spat venomously.

"A Krogan that I trust," Shepard shot back. "He informed me that his brother, Udnort Wreav, had seized power with the aid of a benefactor."

"We remember Commander, what is your point?" asked Valern.

"My point is Councilors that I don't think we should see the Krogan as the instigators of this problem. If you'll recall, I encountered CAT6 mercenaries on CDEM orbital checkpoint station A-02. I believe they were hired by Wreav's benefactor who is manipulating the Krogan towards war."

"Well that's all very interesting commander, and while I admit that we will need to deal with this benefactor in time, the current and more pressing problem remains that we have a Krogan horde preparing for war," said Sparatus.

"A Krogan horde whose only preparing for war because of this benefactor."

"You're saying this benefactor is the real threat," summarized Anderson.

"Yes I am." Shepard took another breath. "I think that Councilor Tevos's plan is the best, for now."

"For now?" asked Tevos.

"Yes ma'am. Like I said, the Krogan are not the ones who decided to start a war, their benefactor is. I didn't just come here to report to you my findings on Tuchanka Councilors. I'm also asking for your support on a new mission."

The Councilors exchanged looks. Shepard did his best to read them but with no political training he could not make out much beyond hesitancy. Only Anderson seemed ready to give Shepard his full support.

"Continue," ordered Sparatus.

"While the task force to negotiate with the Krogan is assembled, I will take my ship and my crew to hunt down the instigators. The ones who want us to fight a meaningless war with the Krogan."

"You have a lead on them then?" asked Valern.

"I do. CAT6 was employed to eliminate me and my crew before we could deliver this news to you. After some help from Alliance Intelligence, we've identified a Captain in their ranks that goes by the name of Tyco. I intend to start with him. My hope is to capture Tyco, interrogate him, and identify the benefactor. Once I have successfully identified the benefactor, I will locate them, and eliminate them. The Krogan will have their support cut out from them. With their support gone, the Krogan will likely be much more open to negotiation, they might even just give up altogether. We could avoid war."

Shepard paused purposefully and tried to gauge the reactions of the Council. Tevos seemed appreciative of the support for her plan. Valern as usual seemed to be lost in deep analytical thought. Sparatus unsurprisingly was scowling.

"What do you need from us commander?" asked Anderson.

"I won't ask you to spare me any military support, to be honest a single ship would be best in this scenario anyway. What I do need is up to date intelligence, everything and anything about CAT6. Primarily where their bases of operation are and what they're currently up to."

"The Alliance will have your back," Anderson assured immediately. "I'll talk to them and make sure of it."

Shepard gave a grateful nod, he could always count on Anderson to have his back. But the other Councilors remained hesitant. Shepard prepared himself for the inevitable half baked excuse to decline his request for help. Unsurprisingly Sparatus chose to be the one to give it.

"You ask us to support you in a wild spirit hunt with little to no chance of success, based on shoddy intelligence. I should not be surprised commander. You've always asked for others to have more faith in you than was logical."

Shepard winced, he should have known.

The Turian Councilor turned to face his colleagues. "The last time we gave Shepard no support, he hijacked his own ship and knocked out the ambassador of his own species."

"Technically I did that," commented Anderson.

Sparatus held up a claw. "Irrelevant. When we denied him again, he was left with nothing but Cerberus."

A deep scowl formed on Shepard's face. Anderson had warned him that his temporary pact with Cerberus would come back to haunt him.

"But despite us essentially abandoning him he persevered, he gathered his own resources, he found his own support, and he proceeded to deal with a threat to galactic safety." The Turian Councilor crossed his arms. "You're an exemplar of your species Commander Shepard, irritating and stubborn. But you've faced a deck stacked against you and come back for more."

Sparatus uncrossed his arms.

"You've earned this much at least. The Council will grant your request for intelligence support on the PMC known as CAT6."

"We will?" asked a very surprised Valern.

"Yes, we will. And I will support Tevos's plan to negotiate with the Krogan, as mad as it may be."

The commander could not hide his surprise. The other members of the Council could not either. Sparatus had always seemed to have it out for him, and humanity in general, now he was the first of the non-human Councilors to give him support. It was a shocking moment to say the least.

"Thank you Councilor Sparatus."

"Don't thank me Commander. Just prove that you are worth it."

 _…_

"I got a message from Councilor Anderson today. He tells me the delegates have been chosen and the escort has been assembled."

"Who'd they get?"

"The Heirarchy's 9th Fleet along with the 141st Legion."

Garrus visibly winced at the mention of the later, and Shepard knew why. It was a sore subject, one that they typically avoided. But Shepard felt that now was as good a time as any to talk about it.

"You're father, he's the General of the 141st Legion right?"

The Turian nodded. "That's right. General Castius Vakarian, recipient of the Wings of Palaven, highest honor of the Heirarchy and an adviser to Primarch Fedorian himself." Garrus drained his entire glass in a single gulp. "With only one child, Katia Vakarian."

"He disowned you?"

"He might as well have," Garrus muttered as he poured himself a refill.

"I'm sorry Garrus. I wish I had advice for you, but truth is I don't think I'm the right guy to give any. At least not on how to deal with dads."

The Turian gave an appreciative nod. "You're sire, you told me he died when you were young, right?"

Shepard nodded and sipped his drink. "Yeah, cancer took him when I was five. He was N7, just like me. Actually he's the whole reason I joined the military."

"Do you remember anything about him?"

"A little. He was kind. I looked up to him. There are some memories of us playing sports and watching movies. But the clearest memories I have are when the cancer started to get bad and he became too weak to even get out of bed."

"Hmmm, I wonder which one of us is unluckier."

"You probably."

Garrus chuckled. "Heh, yeah, probably me. But at least I inherited my sire's good looks. Based on your ugly mug, you're birther must have been really impressed with you're sire's smarts."

Shepard chuckled as well and flipped his friend a rude hand gesture.

* * *

The next day Shepard gathered his crew into the Communications Room for a quick briefing on their next target. The Commander stood in his usual spot at the head of the rectangular conference table. To his right, Garrus groaned and rubbed his temples.

"Ugh, that last glass might have been one to many."

"What's the matter Vakarian? Can't hold your liquor?" Garrus gave him a very rude Turian gesture. In truth Shepard felt the same as his Turian friend, but he wasn't about to give Garrus the satisfaction of knowing that. He then turned to his left and addressed his XO. "Miranda, have we heard anything from Mordin?"

Though she had not joined them in a night of debauchery, the _Normandy's_ XO looked to have had a similarly sleepless night. The only indicator of her tiredness being a single strand of hair that hung loosely out of place. As if reading the commander's mind, Miranda quickly fixed it.

"Thane is recovering nicely and should make a full recovery in a few more days," she said, choosing to tell the good news first. "But Wrex and Tali still require constant monitoring. Wrex hasn't woken from his healing coma and Tali still has a number of infections."

"Send him a message telling him I appreciate him staying behind on the Citadel to look after them."

Miranda nodded. "Of course commander."

"EDI!" Shepard called out, in part to gain the attention of the ship A.I and another part to gain the attention of those in the room. "Dim the lights and bring up an image of our next target please?"

 _"Of course commander,"_ said EDI's disembodied voice. The lights dimmed just enough to allow clear vision and a three dimensional holographic image of a planet apperared at the center of the conference table.

"Thank you EDI. Everyone, this is our next target. It's a planet called Kal-Riv and it's home to about a hundred pirate groups and more than a dozen private military companies."

"So the usual hive of scum and villainy," Garrus commented.

"One of those PMCs is CAT6. Now I know we've been successfuly hitting their bases the last several days, but this time is different." Shepard lifted his hand to the holographic planet and splayed his fingers. The image zoomed in onto one of the planet's larger continents then brought up an image of a city. "This is the largest city on Kal-Riv: Kuussov, most business conducted on the planet is done here. It also happens to be where CAT6 has set up shop. Our usual assault tactics aren't going to work this time around. We'll be dealing with a heavy urban environment with lots of non-combatants and possible third parties."

"You shouldn't be too worried about where the bullets fly," said Zaeed as he scratched the growing stubble on his cheek, "I've done business in Ruussov before. It's a lot like Omega, everybody there is guilty of something."

Shepard crossed his arms and fixed Massani with a stern look. "There are always innocents Zaeed. Which is why I said we're not going in guns blazing. If there's a chance even one innocent might get caught in the cross fire, I won't allow it."

Zaeed simply shrugged nonchalantly. "Hey, you're the boss. I'm just saying, don't be surprised if when we're down there a few of those 'non-combatants' draw guns on us."

"Noted." Shepard turned to Miranda and nodded for her to take over.

"Since this base is situated differently than the others we have encountered so far, we will be approaching it with a different way. Our plan will have three phases." Jack groaned loudly but Miranda ignored her and continued. "The first phase will be a recon mission. We will split up into three teams. Team one shall be led by the Commander, team two will be led by Garrus, and team three shall be led by myself."

Upon hearing that Jack began to protest, but Shepard threw her a look and made a cutting motion to his throat. She got the message bit down whatever she was going to say.

"Team two and team three will be tasked with scouting the compound. You'll be looking for defenses, patrol schedules, the usual. Team three will be traveling to a nearby bar called _The Endless Void._ "

"I've been there a couple of times," commented Zaeed, "beer is good. But stay away from the fried Nak beast."

"At _The Endless Void_ , team one will make contact with a local STG contact. Once contact is made and the Commander's Spectre credentials are confirmed, the STG have promised to lend us support in assaulting the CAT6 compound. Any questions?"

No one responded.

"Good. The second phase, assuming that phase one goes as planned, will involve deciding on how to assault the CAT6 compound. Once a plan of attack is made we'll initiate phase three. You're team assignments will-"

 _"COMMANDER!"_ Joker's voice boomed over the ship intercom, interrupting Miranda.

"Joker?"

 _"Sir! You may want to get up here. I think we're under attack!"_

* * *

Shepard rushed to the CIC where the holomap was already displaying the seven ships surrounding the _Normandy_ like a pack of hungry wolves.

"Joker, status?" he asked.

 _"Seven Alliance ships commander, they've got us trapped in a standard circle blockade formation. Three frigates, one Cruiser, one Carrier, and two destroyers."_

Seven Alliance ships? That was a small battle group. How did their sensors miss that many? More importantly, why were Alliance ships hunting him, unless...

"EDI, can we confirm that these are Alliance ships?"

 _"The IFF transponders would seem to confirm so Commander. If this is a trap laid by our enemies, then these Alliance ships have either been captured or are working with them."_

The thought of enemies being inside the Alliance was a chilling one. Shepard took a look at the holographic map once again. He noted that while they had their guns pointed at the _Normandy_ none of them had opened fire yet, so maybe this wasn't an attack at all.

"Joker! Do you see any energy build up on their weapons?"

 _"No Commander. Their guns are cold as ice, doesn't make them less scary though."_

So whoever was in command of this battle group wasn't looking for a fight, at least not yet. No, they were here for something else. He took another look a the holographic display and eyed the cruiser which appeared to be the battle group's flagship. Shepard frowned, while all Alliance ships followed the same basic design structure, this cruiser in particular looked oddly familiar.

"EDI, can you bring up their IFF tags?"

 _"One moment...scanning...identifying ships now."_

Flat holographic tags appeared next to each of the holographic ship models. Shepard read the cruiser's tag and his frown deepened.

The _SSV Gettysburg._

"That bitch," he muttered under his breath, "Joker, hail that cruiser!"

 _"Aye sir. Opening a channel now...uh, our line is being redirected to the carrier, SSV Baldwin. Orders sir?"_

Shepard sighed. "Put it through."

" _This is Commodore Mohammad Zaman, 8th Carrier Battle Group, 5th Fleet. Do I have the honor of speaking to Commander Alan Shepard of the SSV Normandy?"_

Despite holding them at gun point, Shepard gave the commodore points for at least being polite.

"This is Commander Shepard," he responded, "Commodore Zaman, may I ask why you have ordered your battle group to surround my ship?"

 _"Regretfully commander, I myself am unaware as to the reason,"_ the commodore sounded like he was using each word carefully. " _I'm afraid that I must order you to shut down your ship's engines and open your shuttle hangar to allow a representative to board."_

Shepard chewed his lip as he carefully considered his options. He knew exactly who the 'representative would be and he knew what the 'representative' would want from him. It would be something that Shepard wasn't ready to give. But he didn't have much choice other than to comply. Joker was good and with EDI as copilot he was doubly so. But a Carrier group would be a lot even for them, and these weren't random raiders or pirates, these were Alliance soldiers just doing their job.

Finally he responded. "Am I being put under arrest Commodore?"

 _"That's not up to me Commander. Please comply within the next ten minutes, otherwise I've been ordered to open fire and cripple your ship. I'd really rather not."_

* * *

 **10 minutes later...**

Shepard and his entire ground team stood in the hangar and watched as a UT-47 Kodiak shuttle, painted in Alliance blue, docked itself. Impatiently the commander began tapping his foot on floor. Garrus nudged his friend and pointed it out.

"So, are we here to stop a boarding party or meet a guest?"

"Probably the first one."

"Shouldn't we be armed then?"

"I'd really like to be," admitted Shepard, "but I don't think I could resist the temptation to shoot on sight."

The door of the blue Kodiak shuttle slid open with a hiss of depressurized air. A slight figure clad in midnight black armor, with a red and white stripe on the right arm, stepped out. She was followed by six other figures, they were noticeably larger and wore standard Alliance heavy armor in the same blue as their shuttle.

The figure in black armor walked towards the _Normandy_ crew and Shepard saw that her helmet was featureless, completely obscuring what was underneath, save for a single dark blue oval lens placed over the left eye. The lens for the right eye had apparently been removed and filled in.

He moved forward, meeting her and her escort half way across the hangar.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said.

"What's the matter Shepard? Not happy to see me?" Her voice was warped by the modulator in her helmet, but Shepard could recognize Roussel's cocky tone anywhere.

He crossed his arms. "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't toss you off my ship."

She snorted. "I'd like to see you try."

The crew of the _Normandy_ and the Alliance marines watched as the two glared at one another. For the _Normandy_ crew, this was a novel experience. It was a rare occurrence that Shepard so clearly showed his irritation. For the Alliance marines, this was somewhat like watching one of the popular "who would win?" videos on the extranet, the title would have been: Hero of Elysium vs Butcher of Torfan.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for some, Miranda stepped in to try and defuse the situation.

"Agent Roussel," she began. The SAI agent turned her attention to the _Normandy's_ XO quickly. "Yes, I know who you are. We are on a mission for the Citadel Council. I assume you know who they are? Doesn't matter. All you need to understand is that if you lay a finger on us you will be causing a galactic incident between the Alliance and-"

"Miranda Lawson."

The rest of Miranda's sentence was immediately lost.

"Yeah, I can do it too. You know you're father is spending enough credits to buy a planet trying to find you and...what's your sister's name? Starts with an O right?" Miranda flinched and actually took a step back. Roussel drew her gaze up and down the stunned woman. "You were Cerberus weren't you? Yeah that's right I remember now, you were the Illusive Man's hand. He sent you to do all kinds of dirty work didn't he?"

Shepard was just as stunned as his first officer. He'd never seen Miranda so shaken and he'd never seen her speechless.

"And judging by the way you dress, I'd say you were his right hand." Roussel made a lewd pumping motion with a clenched fist. Miranda's face became flushed with indignation while the Alliance marines behind the SAI agent seemed ready to burst with laughter.

"Ha! I like her," Jack called from the back. "Hey Shep, we still recruit-"

"Jesus fucking Christ," interrupted Roussel as she peered back at the rest of Shepard's team. Her eye immediately fell on Jack, whose breasts were being covered only by a thin belt, and Samara, whose skin tight red suit showed off a scandalous amount of cleavage. "Is this your crew or personal harem? Seriously, do you have something against women wearing armor...or clothes?"

"What Jack wears-"

"Or doesn't wear."

Shepard clenched his teeth and hands. _No, don't let her provoke you, that's what she wants._

The commander took a deep breath through his nostrils and slowly let it out. He needed to stay calm. When he lost his cool it gave her the advantage, and the last thing he wanted was to look like a fool in front of his crew. It was petty, even vain, but Shepard couldn't help but feel he needed to maintain appearances around them.

When he finished his long exhale the desire to throw a Shockwave at Roussel had shrunk considerably. As he began to speak, Shepard heard rapid footsteps behind him, and he realized not everyone had managed to remain calm.

"FUCK YOU ONE EYED BITCH!" Jack lunged forward, a fist drawn back and pulsing with barely contained biotic energy. Shepard had seen her biotic punches break through steel. Roussel meanwhile hadn't moved an inch.

As much of a pain in his ass as she was, Shepard knew what was coming next. He opened his mouth to cry out a warning, but it was too late.

Jack's fist lashed out...and hit nothing.

Roussel had effortlessly sidestepped a split second before the fist landed. She then grabbed Jack by her outstretched wrist and threw the biotic over her shoulder. Jack's backside hit the _Normandy's_ hangar floor with a loud thump. Before Jack could recover, Roussel was on top of her, straddling her waist, and pressing the razor sharp edge of her kukri against Jack's throat.

"Try that again and I will cut you open from your throat to your cunt. Got that?" The sheer steel in the SAI agent's voice actually caused Jack to flinch. She told herself that this one eyed bitch didn't scare her, that she wasn't afraid of anything. She'd been telling herself that a lot lately.

"Fuck y-!"

Roussel growled and pressed the blade of her kukri down harder. Just enough that Jack began to feel some pain.

"Got that?" she asked again.

Shepard palmed his face, having expected this outcome. Roussel was an N7, anti-biotic tactics was day 1 training. He also knew that Jack was too proud and stubborn to admit when she'd been beaten, which meant that Roussel would make good on her promise. He decided to step in before that happened.

"Laura!" Hearing her first name caught the SAI agent's attention. "That's enough! This is my ship! I won't have you threatening my crew! Let her go!"

She looked up to see Shepard surrounded in a pulsing blue corona of dark energy. The two N7s locked glares again, like two apex predators sizing up one another for a fight. Everyone present held their breaths, fearing even the slightest disturbance could set off a fight between the two titans.

Finally, Roussel took her blade away from Jack's throat and sheathed it with a sharp hiss. She gave the bald woman beneath her one last soul chilling glare before standing up and walking towards Shepard.

"We need to talk," she stated simply.

Shepard nodded towards the elevator. "Follow me."

* * *

After an awkwardly tense and long elevator ride, Shepard led Roussel to the Communications room. Once there he ordered EDI to lock the door and switch off all monitoring equipment.

"We can talk now," he told Roussel.

"Uh huh," the SAI agent looked around the room skeptically, likely for possible microphones and cameras, "you'll forgive me if I don't trust what you say."

"Then trust this. I don't appreciate you threatening Jack like that. I don't care if you're a candidate or not. Pull that shit again and I will shoot you dead, toss your corpse out an airlock, and threaten everyone who knows into going on as though nothing happened."

Roussel just snorted. "I wouldn't have to do what I did if your 'crew' had an ounce of discipline. I mean seriously, little miss I'm-too-edgy-for-clothes attacks an Alliance officer and you say its my fault? Good to know where you're loyalties lie."

"I didn't make her attack you."

"You sure as hell didn't try to stop her either."

Shepard crossed his arms. "I didn't bring you up here to argue with you Roussel, I don't have the patience for it. Just tell me why the hell you're here."

Roussel leaned over the table and fixed the commander with a harsh glare from her one eye. She was pissed, more so than usual.

"You," she jabbed a finger at him, "have been fucking up my operation with your little revenge crusade."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Fargius, Meldor III, Grandia, Polomar II," Roussel counted each name on a finger, "those planets ring a bell?"

They did. Each of those planets had been the location of a CAT6 base. 'Had' being the operative word, they had all recently been destroyed thanks to Shepard and his crew. But he wasn't about to admit that to Roussel. Instead he leaned back on one leg, gave his best smug smile, and shrugged.

"You might be a candidate, but right now I'm the only one in this room who's an actual Citadel Spectre. So I'm pretty sure I don't have to tell you shit."

To Shepard's surprise Roussel smiled right back. "Ha! How many times has that worked for you? You just say 'I'm a Spectre' and people give you what you want, right? Well not this time poster boy. That title might mean a lot out there in the real world. But we're in the middle of space and you're just a Human with a ship and some guns."

Shepard's smile disappeared and he silently clenched his hands into tight fists. "My mission is sanctioned by the Council."

"Is that so? Well so is mine. I also have backing of the SAI. Which means when I order my men to gun down your crew of terrorists and criminals with automatic fire, then have your fancy ship destroyed, it'll all be covered up in the news as an unfortunate run in with the Geth. How does that sound?"

The commander's anger boiled beneath his skin, threatening to explode.

"Don't threaten my crew," he stated through clenched teeth.

"Don't try to get smart with me and I won't have to," Roussel shot back.

Shepard bit down a retort. He'd let her get under his skin, just like always. By now Shepard thought he would have been able to handle Roussel's mind games but nothing had changed since their N7 days. With every ounce of will power he fought down the immature desire to return to their war of words and refocused himself on what was important.

"What do you want?" he finally asked, in as even a tone as he could muster.

Roussel leaned back and crossed her own arms. "I want to help you."

Stunned silence followed her declaration.

"What?"

* * *

 **Normandy**

 **Deck 5, Shuttle Hangar**

An uncomfortable silence had settled in the shuttle hangar after Shepard and Roussel had disappeared through the elevator. Though tensions had fallen, there was still an unspoken eminity hanging in the recycled air. As a result the crew of the _Normandy_ and Roussel's team of marines kept on opposite sides of the hangar, with the marines staying near the shuttle they had come in on and the _Normandy_ crew staying by the elevator.

The marines passed the time by bantering, occasionally directing gestures or glances towards the crew's way, while the crew watched and did the same.

"So what do you know about this Roussel?" Garrus asked Zaeed.

The mercenary, who was fiddling with the settings on his Revenant, gave Garrus an incredulous look. "How the fuck do you not know about her?"

Garrus did the Turian equivalent of furrowing his brows. "What do you mean?"

"She's the fucking Butcher of Torfan!" Zaeed hissed.

Garrus' eyes widened dramatically. "Her? She's The Butcher?"

"Everyone whose ever heard of The Battle of Torfan has heard of The Butcher. How the hell did you not know that was her?"

"I'd heard of The Butcher before, some crazy Human female who killed a whole bunch of Batarian slavers and pirates with a cleaver or something."

"It's called a kukri," corrected Zaeed, "it's a knife that originates from a place on Earth called Nepal, and yeah, she cut up a lot of Batarians with that thing. Some just got their hearts cut out, others got a Colombian Necktie, and the rest just got sliced into Varren chow."

"What's a Colombian Necktie?"

Zaeed dragged a finger across his throat. "The poor sucker gets his throat cut open and his tongue pulled through. She saved that one for the particularly famous slavers."

Grunt, who had been listening into the conversation, gave a hearty chuckle. "This Human sounds strong, almost like a Krogan. Jack is right, we should recruit her into our Krantt."

Garrus expected Jack to chime in and boast about Grunt agreeing with her. Instead all she gave was silence. Ever since Jack had gotten pinned by Roussel, the former convict had taken to the corner and began sulking. The only motion she ever made was to massage the thin cut on her throat.

"Get over it psycho. The Butcher took out Urgan Droc, it's no surprise that she had no problems kick your scrawny ass."

"Fuck off old man," replied Jack.

Garrus let out a low growl upon hearing the name: Urgan "Blue Eyes" Droc was once an infamous Batarian Terminus warlord who had made his reputation by capturing one of the Turian Hierarchy's prized dreadnoughts, _Unending Vigor._ After capturing it, he used it as his fleet's flagship. Heirarchy protocol was strict and stated that a ship should be set to self destruct should the danger of being captured ever become present.

Droc had overwhelmed the dreadnought's crew so quickly that the _Unending Vigor's_ crew had no chance to set the self destruct. Even more amazing, he had personally led the boarding party. Videos of Droc melting Turian sailors with Warps and tearing through blast doors with Biotic Shockwaves could still be found on the extranet.

"How'd she get him?"

Zaeed gave a wolfish smile. "The crazy bitch tracked him down to his hole, killed all his men, and then fought him one on one with just a pistol and her knife. From what I hear, she sliced him up so bad they had to pull DNA match just to make sure it was him."

"Damn."

At that moment the elevator let out a chime and the doors parted, revealing Shepard and Roussel. The two N7s stepped out into the hangar wordlessly. Shepard walked to his crew while Roussel moved towards her marine escort. Both had grim looks on their face.

"So what's the word? We gonna shoot each other?" asked Zaeed.

Grunt excitedly slammed his fists together. "Haha! I call dibs on fighting The Butcher!"

"We're not fighting," said Shepard.

The Krogan pouted in disappointment. "Aww."

"So if we're not fighting, what are we doing?" asked Garrus.

"Well...we're working together."

* * *

 _CODEX: WEAPONS: MELEE WEAPONRY_

 _With the invention and leaping advances in firearm technology, melee weaponry had nearly become extinct on the battlefield. The sole exceptions to this have been the Krogan and Asari._

 _During the Rebellions, Krogan warriors made heavy use of various melee weapons such as over sized knives, hammers, and axes. Most of these weapons were little more than well forged pieces of metal, similar to their medieval ancestors. In modern times Krogan mercenaries and warlords continue to employ these weapons. The most impressive of these are called **Void Hammers** and make use of mass effect technology, allowing biotic Krogan to channel their power through the weapon. An alternative version exists for non biotic Krogan called **Thunder Hammers,** these weaponshave a built in Omni technology that unleashes destructive bursts of electric energy upon impact._

 _The most famous Krogan to employ melee weapons is Urdnot Grod, once Chieftain of all the Krogan, he wielded two hammers at a time, one Void, the other Thunder. After his death the hammers became relics of his clan._

 _Asari melee weapons mirror the Krogan Void Hammers in that the only reason they continue to be employed is to assist the Asari in using their biotics. Asari melee weapons take more elegant forms such as swords, spears, gauntlets, and most exotically, whips. These weapons are are referred to as: **Warp Weapons**. All warp weapons contain miniature Eezo cores that run their length, allowing the user to extend the reach of their biotics and employ them in new ways._

 _House Uthanear is known for producing the greatest warp weapon users in Asari history. Lulius Uthanear, the current head of the house, is over 1000 years old and has mastered every warp weapon ever created._

 _Other species mainly employ melee weapons in emergency CQC situations. Even then, most do not carry dedicated weapons for such a situation, instead relying apps to provide them with Omni-blades. Omni based melee weapons have been seeing a rise in recent years as shielding and armor technology have begun to catch up with projectile weaponry. It is predicted by some military analysts that soon, melee weapons will be the only reliable way to penetrate kinetic barriers._

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Okay so sorry that this didn't get out earlier. I would have had it out Wednesday, but work got in the way and unfortunately my paycheck takes priority over this.**

 **So I know Roussel is kind of a bitch. But I've got to admit, her sections of this chapter were actually the most fun to write, possibly because she speaks the truth. I mean seriously, in Mass Effect 2 just about every female team member had a revealing outfit. Seriously, go back and look, it's true. Tali might be the one exception.**

 **For those of you wondering what Roussel's armor looks like, think N7 Shadow Infiltrator from Mass Effect 3 with a Cerberus Nemesis helmet, but with a blue lens instead of a red one. Next chapter we'll see just how formidable she is, so that you can all see she's not just talk.**

 **Please tell me what you think of her so far.**

 **No Wrath this chapter, which I know is a bit of a bummer, but if I had him in every chapter it would dilute the currency of his presence. Don't worry, he'll have plenty to do in future chapters. This story is as much about him as it is about Shepard.**

 **Speaking of Shep, I thought I'd take this chapter to do a little exploring of the backstory I came up for him. Tell me what you think about it.**

 **For those of you who read the CODEX entry, yeah I gave the Asari fancy melee weapons. The way I see it, there are two kinds of Asari. Those that act like strippers and those that are fucking badass. The badasses are like Amazons, with hundreds of years of fighting experience. So why not give them cool melee weapons.**

 **In the next chapter we'll get some Jack, some Miranda, more Roussel, more Shepard dealing with Roussel, and more Garrus being super handsome!**

 **See you then!**


	11. Chapter 7 part 2: Normandy Strikes Back

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **Hunter 139:** _Fear not, there will be more Star Wars soon!_

 **TetrisLame:** _I agree_

 **MEleeSmasher:** _Haha, yeah it'll be quite the shock_

 **Old one Griffin:** _Thank you for your feed back, and the idea is an interesting one. Maybe I'll use it._

 **Rabid Armenian:** _Hehehe, your comment made me laugh. Thanks for your feedback!_

 **Guest:** _I don't want to give too much away, but the survivors of the Republic are definitely a thing. They and the surviving Jedi will play a big role in later chapters._

 **artix93:** _Thank you! I hope this update is soon enough for you!_

 **WriteAnon:** _Thank you for such an in-depth review, it's truly inspiring to see someone talk at such length about something I've written. I also really appreciate your thoughts on Roussel and I can definitely see where you are coming from. I wouldn't worry too much about her being a stagnant character, like you said I've thought her character out and there will be some development. Also, hehe, "Evil Space Jesus with Boobs", that caught me off guard and made me laugh so hard._

 **ErnestShippinglane89:** _Yeah, I love Revan as much as the next SW fan, but I feel like he/she has been over done at this point._

 **Terlander:** _Well, I wouldn't say that the Star-Cabal holo-disguise is such a long shot. I wouldn't say that no one will be able to trust British accents anymore. The Empire now encompasses all of their galaxy and that includes people with non-Imperial accents. You're assessment of Roussel is a fair one, most authors use OC's for power trips. I myself have been guilty of that. Thank you for your review, I'm glad you're enjoying yourself!_

 **Guest:** _Thank you for your review! We'll see more of Revan soon, so don't worry!_

 **Hello everyone, I just wanted to apologize for how long it took me to get this update out to you. There's really no excuse except that I wasn't feeling it and work has recently been keeping me busy lately. Like I said before, my paycheck unfortunately takes priority.**

 **If you're looking for some good reads while you wait, I recommend the stories** _On Wings of Silver and Lead_ **and its sequel** _Call of The Mocking Bird_ **. Both are excellent Star Wars stories set in the Clone Wars. Go over there and give them some reviews so that the author knows how awesome of a writer she is.**

 **Please all of you continue reviewing so that I can get the feedback I need to improve! I really want to know what you all think of each update!**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 7 part 2 – The** _ **Normandy**_ **Strikes Back**

* * *

 **SSV Baldwin - Hanger Bay**

Two and a half years ago, Squadron Leader Tina Walsh and the rest of Squadron 193, better known among their peers as _The Gunslingers,_ had been transferred aboard the _SSV Baldwin._ Like many of the other _Gunslingers_ Tina had known very little about their new boss, Commodore Zaman, other than the rumors that circulated about him in the navy. Apparently, he was some sort of tactical genius who had made a name for himself cleaning up slaver and pirate scum in the traverse.

Said slavers and scum were in reality Hegemony backed privateers who got paid to attack Alliance colonies and ships. So the fact that the commodore was a veteran of killing those four eyed freaks was enough to earn Tina's respect. But Zaman had earned her and every other _Gunslinger's_ loyalty at the Battle of the Citadel. There he had led the 8th Carrier Battle Group against the Geth fleet and their massive squid looking dreadnought.

It had been the most intense dog fighting of Tina's entire career. Geth programs made calculations faster than she ever could have hoped to, even with the VI assistance of her S-33 Hornet Strike fighter. She was certain that if it were not for the commodore's direction the _Gunslingers_ would have seen their last showdown that day. As it was, God had been merciful, and at the end of the battle the Gunslingers were forced to bury only six of their members.

Those seemed like heavy losses, but other battle groups had sustained 100% casualties. The Gunslingers had been granted a small miracle in comparison, one delivered by the authoritative voice of Zaman.

So when the commodore had said that the battle group was being roped into helping Humanity's newest (potential) Spectre, each member of the Gunslingers, Tina included, had been ready to provide support.

When the commodore revealed the Spectre recruit was the Butcher of Torfan, the Gunslingers hadn't made a single complaint.

And when the commodore asked Tina to act as pilot for the Butcher's latest mission, she had not hesitated to say yes.

But that didn't mean she was particularly happy with her assignment.

"What a piece of junk," she mused aloud, as she studied the bird she would be flying. The _JingXi_ would have been state of the art during the First Contact war. Against modern standards the light freighter was nearly an antique, and not the kind that belonged in a museum. The sheer amount of rust, pock marks, and gashes on the _JingXi's_ hull made it look more like it was ready for the scrap heap rather than a military mission.

With a reluctant sigh Tina moved towards the boarding ramp and entered her new ship.

Inside she found herself pleasantly surprised. While the outside might have been nothing pleasant to look at, the inside was something to behold. Every where Tina looked she saw the latest in ship technology, all of it sleek and shiny. She entered the cockpit and sat in the pilot's chair.

"Oh my," she cooed appreciatively. The chair was real leather, if nothing else she appreciated that small luxury. She then activated some of the secondary systems and began familiarizing herself with them. Again she was in awe of the systems and technology being put at her disposal. Tina wished that she had some of these toys in her personal fighter.

"Walsh! Are you in there?" A voice with a familiar Arabic accent called to her from outside the ship. Tina actually jumped in surprise, she'd been so sucked into familiarizing herself with the _JingXi's_ systems she hadn't realized that nearly a whole hour had passed already.

"Yes!" she called back in her own Texas farm grown accent. Reluctantly she left the comfort of the pilot's seat and walked down the boarding ramp. At the bottom of the ramp she spotted Commodore Zaman waiting patiently with his hands behind his back.

"Sir!" she quickly saluted.

The commodore returned the salute. "At ease. Having fun with your new assignment?"

"Well she ain't pretty sir, but like my grandpa used to say back on Earth. Doesn't matter if the horse is pretty, just so long as it can handle a day of plowing the field."

Zaman arched a brow up towards the blue turban he wore and nodded. "As you say Walsh. I came to inform you that we've arrived in the system." He held out a data pad towards her and she took it. "This has the details of your mission. Please remember that while you are the _JingXi's_ pilot you must never identify yourself as a member of the Alliance."

"I know the protocol sir. This is the Attican Traverse after all, folks out here tend to frown on the color blue."

The commodore nodded. "The hardest part will be getting your cargo down to the planet."

Tina's face crinkled in confusion. "Cargo sir? I was under the impression I'd just be transport'n Lieutenant Commander Roussel and some marines."

Zaman scratched his beard. "Yes, that is true. But you will be ferrying some additional passengers as well."

At that moment a UT-47 Kodiak shuttle entered the _Baldwin's_ hangar. Tina noted that it was not painted in the traditional Alliance blue, instead it was white and black. That struck the pilot as a little odd and put her on edge. The commodore however seemed ever at ease so she decided to try to do the same.

The shuttle landed and after a brief moment it's door slid open. Then the oddest collection of individuals Tina had ever seen filed out into the hangar.

The first to come out was just a regular human man. He was handsome but otherwise fairly unremarkable with regulation length hair and a posture that was confident yet not arrogant. Though he was clearly military he wore civilian clothes; a black leather jacket over a simple white shirt and BDU trousers.

The second to come out was a Turian. He wore heavy blue armor and had a fancy eye piece over his left eye. Tina's eyes however were drawn more towards the alien's right arm. At first she thought the armor was simply painted a different color, but she soon realized it was actually a prosthetic.

After the human and Turian, a massive hulking reptilian alien exited the shuttle. Tina had never seen a Krogan in person before and she wondered if all of them were so massive. After the Krogan came a mean looking elderly fellow that reminded Tina of her late grandfather. Then came a beautiful human woman with raven colored hair wearing a black and white cat suit that made Tina feel a little self-conscious.

Next came bald woman covered in tattoos and wearing nearly nothing beyond a pair of baggy pants and some sort of weird belt looking thing that protected her modesty. She reminded Tina of a group of Terra Firma skinheads she'd seen during some leave on Bekenstein. Then came an Asari in a skin tight red suit. Tina had often heard of the "legendary" beauty of the Asari, mostly from her male colleagues. She'd seen some in person and had been fairly unimpressed. This one however was different, she carried herself with a certain regalness that the others did not.

Tina was still concentrating on the Asari when one last figure exited the Kodiak and turned her blood to ice. She had never seen one in person, but after the Battle of the Citadel she had learned as much about them as she could. Standing in the middle of the _Baldwin's_ hangar was a real, honest to god, Geth.

Tina's hand immediately dropped to the sidearm she always had strapped to her waist, but the Commodore raised a hand to stop her from drawing it.

"Calm down," he said evenly.

"But sir! It's a-"

"I know what it is. I was there as well if you'll recall."

Her hand remained on the butt of the pistol, but eventually she gave a reluctant nod and released it. "Yes sir, as you say sir."

"Good," Zaman gave her a reassuring pat on the back and then locked his hands behind his back. "I shall go greet our guests, I suggest that you familiarize yourself with the systems of the vessel, you will be departing soon after all."

She could have pointed out that she had already become familiar with the systems half an hour ago, but that wasn't the point of the order. The commodore just wanted to give her time to cool down, because whether she liked it or not, that Geth was going to be a part of her day.

"Yes sir." She saluted and then moved towards the boarding ramp. As she did so, Tina could not help but glance over her shoulder at the synthetic accompanying the odd group.

God give her strength, she hated this mission already.

* * *

Shepard took a deep breath and smiled as he exhaled. A familiar stale taste entered his mouth with every breath he took. He hadn't tasted air with this particular type of staleness in a while, it was a taste one could only get from breathing in the constantly recycled air of an Alliance ship. He hadn't realized how badly he'd missed it till now.

"Commander Shepard?" A voice with a heavy Arabic accent pulled him from his nostalgia. He turned towards its source and found it to be a tall somewhat lanky man with a full dark beard wearing a turban colored Alliance blue. On the shoulder of his uniform Shepard spotted a golden circle and bar, indicating the rank of commodore.

The marine in Shepard came out immediately and snapped a crisp salute. "Commodore Zaman! Sir!"

Zaman's lips twitch towards a smile beneath his thick facial hair. "At ease commander."

Shepard relaxed and became acutely aware that Jack was stifling laughter behind his back. He ignored it and to his great relief so did Zaman. "I'm glad to finally meet you in person commander," Zaman said.

"It's good to meet you too commodore."

"This is your team?" the commodore asked. The way he asked was not snide as some Alliance officers, like a certain Admiral Malkovitch, would have done. Instead it more curious than anything, something that Shepard could understand. Against the uniform background of the Alliance around them Shepard's team stood out quite a bit.

"Yes sir, they're the same team that I took through the Omega-4 Relay," he replied, a bit defensively.

Zaman nodded as he scanned them with his dark brown eyes, then stopped as came to Legion. "Commander, am I correct in assuming that is a Geth?"

Shepard winced at the question but reminded himself that he had expected and planned for just such inquiries.

"Yes sir, it is," he replied as calmly as possible.

"I see. You are aware that at present time the Geth are still considered an enemy of the Citadel and the Systems Alliance, yes?"

"I'm aware sir, but Legion is different from the Geth that attacked the Citadel."

Zaman arched a brow. "Legion?"

"That's what we call him sir."

The use of the word 'him' did not escape Zaman's attention. He glanced warily at Legion then back at Shepard. "You fought at the Battle of the Citadel, as did I, which is why I did not immediately order the marines to shoot...Legion."

"I appreciate that sir."

"However, I will still have to report this to the admiralty. You understand, yes?"

"I do sir."

At this point Legion had deduced that the conversation was about itself and stepped forward, causing Zaman to recoil back a step.

"Shepard Commander, if this platform's presence is detrimental to the team's mission, we would be willing to return to the _Normandy_."

"That's not an option Legion. With Tali still in the hospital and Kasumi gone we don't have anyone to provide infiltration and tech support. We need you down there with us."

"If the Geth is vital to your mission than I shall defer to you judgment," said Zaman though his eyes never wandered from Legion and his hand had dropped to his sidearm. "But I must ask that you do your best to keep it out of sight while on my ship. I may be able to restrain myself, but I cannot say the same of the rest of the crew."

"You can't just order them not to shoot?"

"I can. But many of my crew were also at the Battle of the Citadel. They lost friends to the Geth."

"I lost men to the Geth as well. But I got over it for the greater good."

"Not everyone can keep their prejudices in check Commander. I'm sure you understand."

Shepard did, he just didn't like it. Eventually however he nodded. "We'll be out of here soon Commodore. Just direct us to the ship that'll be taking us to the surface and we won't cause anymore trouble."

Zaman returned his nod. "Thank you, right this way please."

Despite the subtle hostility shown towards them, the _Normandy_ team walked through the _Baldwin's_ hangar unaccosted, likely due to the presence of the commodore. Crewmen working on a variety of different spacecraft threw them dirty looks, especially at Legion, but otherwise kept to themselves. Shepard was thankful for that.

As they approached an old looking ship that he assumed to be their transport, he chose to strike up a conversation with the Commodore.

"If you don't mind me asking sir, how'd you get roped into working with Roussel?"

"I had not met Lieutenant Commander Roussel until I and the rest of my battle group were reassigned by the admiralty to assisting her."

"The Alliance decided to assign a whole battlegroup to hunt down a PMC? Seems like overkill."

"Perhaps, but from what the lieutenant commander has deigned to share with me their influence is much greater than initially thought. Truthfully it is not so much CAT6 that we are hunting, but those who command them."

That caught Shepard's attention immediately. "You mean like those who hire them?"

Zaman gave him a look. "You need not hide it from me Commander, I have the proper clearance."

"So you know then that CAT6 is more than just a PMC?"

"I do. It would be somewhat inconvenient I think, if I did not."

"Then you also know that Roussel is an SAI agent." Shepard had noticed that Zaman had been referring to Roussel by her marine rank, which made sense. It was actually a very well kept secret that Roussel was an agent for the SAI, most of the Alliance and media knew her only as another marine and graduate of the N7 program. Shepard only knew because the SAI had given him the same offer to join as they had given her.

He had refused of course. He'd have been no good as a spy. While Roussel was recognizable for her actions at Torfan, Shepard was, as Roussel often reminded him, a poster boy for the Alliance. He still had nightmares of all the propaganda tours he'd been forced to go to after Elysium.

"I know that as well," nodded Zaman.

"Did she tell you herself or did you get a mysterious letter from an anonymous but high level source?"

"The second one."

"Sorry to hear that."

Zaman shook his head. "We are all Alliance, Commander Shepard. We all took the oath to serve. I would be more comfortable hunting slavers and pirates. But if the Alliance decides that I can better serve humanity by providing support to our next Spectre then I shall not complain. It is my duty."

"That's...a very respectable outlook Commodore," Shepard said sincerely. After having had to deal with Cerberus for months, Shepard had very nearly forgotten what it was like to talk to a fellow soldier. It was a refreshing breath of stale recycled air.

They soon arrived at the ship. Shepard gave orders for his team to board and then turned back to the commodore.

"It's been a pleasure meeting you sir, I hope to work with you again in the future." He extended a hand. Zaman immediately took it and gave a firm shake.

"It was a pleasure to meet you as well Commander."

As Shepard began to climb the boarding ramp he realized that he truly had missed the Alliance. _Maybe I should give some more thought to turning myself in?_

Those thoughts were quickly dismissed however, when he began to hear a familiar kind of bickering coming from inside the ship. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes, Shepard ascended the ramp. _But then who would keep those two from killing one another?_

* * *

As the collection of aliens and odd individuals moved up the boarding ramp and into the _JingXi_ , Tina tied her straw colored hair into a bun. It was a small ritual that she performed before every launch, that and small prayer to the big man upstairs.

The raven haired beauty in the black and white cat suit stopped by the cockpit and asked her where they should put themselves.

"You can settle down in the cargo bay. It's empty and there are some seats y'all can strap yourselves into."

She thanked Tina and directed the group towards the cargo bay. One member of the group, the half naked bald woman with tattoos all over her body, made a fuss about not wanting to follow the "cheerleader's" orders. That started off a hissy fight that Tina hadn't seen since her high school days.

"Maybe if you followed orders you wouldn't have put on such an embarrassing display earlier," the 'cheerleader' said.

"Fuck you cheerleader! I didn't see you standing up to the one eyed bitch either! In fact you looked like you were about to wet yourself the minute she brought up-"

"Don't you dare say her name!"

Tattoos smiled cruelly. "O-R-I-A-N-"

"Shut up!"

"Or what? You'll sit on me with that big old bubble butt of yours? Come on cheerleader, you've been giving me the stink eye more than usual lately. I know you've got a bone to pick so why not just get it over with."

"I said shut it you useless bitch!" Something about what 'cheerleader' said wiped the smile right off of 'tattoos' face.

"What the fuck did you just call me?"

"You heard me: useless."

"I am _not_ useless."

'Cheerleader' crossed her arms. "I beg to differ. The day you became part of this team you've been nothing but trouble to everyone. We would be better off without you." There was a pause, then she continued. "Without you, Jacob would still be alive."

The bald woman's eyes widened then quickly narrowed with anger. "I'm going to shove my fist down your throat and-"

"HEY!" a new voice from outside the ship boomed, cutting off whatever threat she was about to give. The handsome man that Tina had seen leading the group earlier stepped into the ship looking mighty pissed. "That's enough! From both of you! Jack, go find a seat and cool down."

"You can't stop me this time boy scout! I'm gonna-"

"Jack," the man did not raise his voice this time, but a wispy blue aura began to surround his body. "I'm not going to ask you again."

For all the bald woman's fury the minute she saw the biotic aura she immediately backed down. Muttering a line of curses that would have made Tina's famously foul mouthed uncle blush, Jack disappeared into the back of the ship.

"And you!" the man turned to 'cheerleader'. "I expected better from you. You're supposed to be the mature one."

"Like you are with Roussel?"

The man flinched and from the look on her face Tina knew that 'cheerleader' immediately regretted saying that. At first Tina thought that he too would explode into shouting, but instead he seemed to struggle through the desire and simply sighed heavily.

"Just...just go find a seat that's as far from Jack as possible. We'll talk about this later."

'Cheerleader' nodded and disappeared after Jack.

Finally the man turned around to face her and Tina's heart leapt up into her throat. She'd seen him before, on billboards, on Alliance propaganda, and in her baby sister's scrapbook where his face was surrounded by little pink hearts.

"Y-you're Commander Shepard," she realized with near panic.

"Yes I am," he replied with a charming smile and a friendly demeanor very different from the stern one he'd just displayed. Tina was suddenly very subconscious about the fact that she wasn't wearing any makeup. He extended a hand to her and she stared at it for a brief moment before realizing she was supposed to shake it.

"I-I'm your pilot for the mission," she stuttered. _Oh gosh, I remembered to take a shower right?_

"I can see that," he said, gesturing to the cockpit.

"Oh, yeah, of course you can because your Commander Shepard," she said, smiling awkwardly.

"I apologize for the unprofessional display my team put on earlier. I promise it won't happen again."

"Oh, that was nothing. You should have seen my parents go at it before the divorce." She smiled nervously. _Stupid Tina! He don't want to hear about your dumb life story!_

Thankfully the Commander just gave a acknowledging grunt, which was better than what Tina had been expecting. As he turned to leave, Tina finally had to ask the question that had been burning inside of her since she realized she was talking to _The_ Commander Shepard.

"Uh...do you mind if I ask you a question?"

He turned back towards her and shrugged. "Sure."

"Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

"I got better."

"...Oh." That wasn't a satisfactory answer at all, but Tina figured it was about as good as she was going to get. As the Commander began to turn away again, Tina decided to be extra bold and ask another burning question.

"Um...sorry, but can I ask you something else?"

Once again the Commander was an absolute gentleman. "Sure, what is it?"

"Uh...it's stupid...but, well, can I get a picture with you? My lil' baby sister is a big fan and she'd murder me if I passed up this opportunity."

Shepard chuckled and for a brief moment Tina thought he would refuse.

In truth the Commander was simply remembering the thousands of photos he'd been forced to take during the propaganda tours he'd been forced to go on. It had once gotten so bad that he had had to ice his cheeks from hours of smiling. Since then he avoided photos at all costs. But he supposed that one more picture couldn't hurt.

"Sure," he finally said. Tina's face lit up in that way only a southern girl's face could. Excitedly she stood up and moved next to the commander. She wrapped an arm around his back and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Part of Tina wanted to scream in girlish delight.

 _Abby is gonna be so jealous_. She quickly activated her Omni-tool's camera app and held it out.

"Say cheese!"

"Cheese!"

There was a digital _click_ as the miniature camera took the photo. Tina brought her arm back in and brought up the photo. It was perfect, except...who was that in the background. She enhanced the image and zoomed in. Upon realizing who the photo-bomber was, Tina quickly whirled around and snapped a salute.

"Ma'am!"

"At ease," said Roussel.

Shepard turned around as well. The two did not exchange words, just glared at each other. Tina's earlier elation was now lost to a tense nervousness. Behind Roussel four marines entered the ship carrying stacks of crates, accompanying them was, to Shepard's surprise, a Salarian.

"Where you want these boss?" one of the marines asked.

"Cargo hold. Stack them up and then strap yourselves into a free seat."

"Yes ma'am, alright boys let's go!" The marines disappeared to carry out their orders.

"Commander Shepard?" asked the Salarian.

"I am, and you are?"

"Jondum Bau, Special Tactics and Recon, I am Roussel's overseer." The Salarian extended a hand. Shepard took it and shook.

"It's good to meet you."

"Likewise, I look forward to seeing how you operate. If you'll excuse me," the Salarian disappeared after the marines.

Shepard had heard of Jondum Bau from fellow Spectres before his death by the hands of the Collectors. According to the opinion of most, Bau was one of the Council's best and second to none within his species. Some had said that he had been second only to Saren. Shepard felt better knowing that another Spectre, particularly one trained in espionage, would be coming with them. He was ashamed to admit it but he wasn't very good at playing spy.

"Walsh right?" asked Roussel, directing the question at Tina.

"Yes ma'am," she replied.

"Prepare for launch, we leave in five."

"Yes ma'am, right away." Tina eagerly retreated back into the cockpit and took her seat. So far she'd seen a Geth, met and taken a photo with Commander Shepard, and finally been embarrassed in front of The Butcher of Torfan. Hopefully that was all the excitement she was going to get for the rest of the mission.

* * *

"Adding another one to you're harem?" asked Roussel.

"You're late," said Shepard, ignoring her jibe.

Roussel simply shrugged and dropped a duffle bag she had been carrying on to the floor. "You know us women, we take forever to pick what we'll wear for the day."

Like Shepard the SAI agent had forgone combat armor in favor of civilian attire. She wore a pair of baggy gray trousers and brown combat boot with a plain black tank top under a brown survivalists vest. Roussel had reasoned that while the others could pass off as mercenaries and criminals, the N7 emblems on their armor would likely flag them as Alliance. More importantly they both had fairly recognizable faces, especially Shepard, so it was important to dress in a manner that drew the least amount of attention.

"You got you're armor stored away?" she asked.

Shepard held up a duffle bag similar to the one that Roussel had been carrying.

"Good," she nodded, "and judging from that racket I heard before, your crew must be aboard."

"You heard that?"

"I'm pretty sure half the hangar heard it. I'll give this to the little gang banger, she's got some bloody strong lungs."

Shepard pinched the flesh between his eyes. He was not looking forward to dealing with Jack or Miranda at the moment, though he knew he needed to.

"Is it true what Lawson said?" asked Roussel.

"About what?"

"That the little gangbanger was the one who got your Cerberus friend killed."

"No," Shepard replied immediately.

Roussel arched a perfect eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

"It wasn't her fault, if you'd seen the guy we were facing..." Shepard bit his lip, then continued. "The enemy was well trained. Looking back it's kind of a miracle more of us didn't die."

Roussel stood a little straighter upon hearing his admission. "One guy took down you're whole team? How'd one guy get the best of all of you?"

"He was...I don't think I can describe it."

"Well hopefully you can figure out how on the trip down. I'd rather not run into him without knowing what I'm up against," said Roussel as she walked passed him to enter the cockpit.

Shepard was surprised."What, no jokes about how I got my ass handed to me?"

"Not for now," she replied before settling into the co-pilot seat, apparently done with the subject. Shepard chose to leave it alone as well. Roussel was choosing to give him a break and it would be wise to take it. Right now he needed to focus on dealing with Jack and Miranda...again.

"There's another seat in here if you'd like to sit up front Commander," said Tina sheepishly, then quickly added, "if that's alright with you ma'am."

Roussel shrugged indifferently. "He's a big boy, he can buckle his own seat belt." The SAI agent flipped a number of switches. "You might want to choose soon Shepard, we're about to take off."

Deciding that there was no real reason not to, Shepard seated himself in the extra chair behind the two pilot seats and strapped himself into the crash webbing.

"On your go Walsh."

"Yes ma'am," Tina placed her pilot's helmet on and spoke into it's microphone. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard the _JingXi_. Unless you wanna end up flatter than a pancake I suggest you find your seats and buckle up real good. We'll be launching in exactly 2 minutes. Our destination: the very friendly and highly civilized world, Kal-Riv."

* * *

The flight was long one. Roussel, not wanting to spook the residents of the planet with the presence of an Alliance battle group, had chosen to leave the _Baldwin_ and its escort ships at the edge of the system. But considering the distance that they had been forced to travel in a light freighter, a three hour trip wasn't particularly bad.

"We're approaching our destination," Tina announced over the _JingXi's_ intercom.

Having spent the entire trip in the cockpit's passenger seat, mostly to avoid Miranda and Jack, Shepard could clearly see Kal-Riv through the view-port. It was an ugly world and reminded Shepard of a muddy soccer ball. The poles were capped with sizeable portions of snow but that was about the only white he could see. The oceans were all an ugly piss yellow, the clouds were all gray, and as far as he could see none of the landmasses had any green vegetation which left them all dirt brown in color.

"Pretty as a picture," Roussel commented sarcastically. She tapped a few keys on her control board. "Uploading landing coordinates. We're going to land outside of Kuussov city, we'll avoid any possible eyes CAT6 will have and draw less attention."

"Is landing outside the city legal ma'am?" asked the pilot.

"Legal? Ha! This is the Traverse, legal doesn't exist."

The descent through the planet's atmosphere was fairly smooth. For a while all that the three humans could see through the forward viewport were masses of thick puffy gray clouds. Then that gave way to the greenish yellow sky of Kal-Riv. Shepard recalled that the first time he'd visited Omega that Miranda had called it a "pisshole". Personally the space station had reminded him of the movie _Blade Runner_ , which endeared it to him a bit. This on the other hand really was a pisshole.

After some time flying through the throw up colored sky Shepard saw the first signs of civilization.

"There it is," said Roussel, "Kuussov city, the biggest gathering of pirates, slavers, drug dealers, and mercenaries in the entire Traverse."

The city was quite large, especially for a planet located in the Traverse. From the information Miranda had pulled for them Shepard knew that the population of Kuussov itself was around 500,000 people. The city had originally started as a Batarian military outpost, which was why the entire city was built surrounding a medium sized mesa.

Living on top of the mesa was now considered a sign of power in Kuussov. Only the richest and most powerful criminal factions could carve themselves out a piece of territory. As it turned out, CAT6 was one of those factions. Their base on Kal-Riv was located on the southern section of Kuussov's mesa. Ordinarily it would have been a struggle to find a way to infiltrate that particular section of the city, especially for off-world visitors.

Thankfully they had a plan.

"You remember our cover?" asked Roussel.

"I'm Robert McCall, you're Jane Smith. We're semi-prominent red sand and weapons dealers contracted with Eclipse. We're here to sell our product and make deals. The others are our security crew."

"Good," she nodded. "Walsh, set us down on that piece of flat land there."

"Aye ma'am," the _JingXi_ descended towards the ground. As they got closer the shape of other ships came into view. "Looks like some folks had the same idea as us. Guess parking is real expensive here."

The ship came to a rest on Kal-Riv's surface with a light jerk. Once it did, Shepard unbuckled his crash webbing and immediately stood to stretch his legs. They were a bit stiff from hours of sitting and he was thankful for the break.

"I'll get our rides ready. You get our 'security'," said Roussel.

Shepard wasn't keen on taking her orders, especially since technically he outranked her, but decided not to make a big deal about it. As he turned to leave the SAI agent caught him by the shoulder.

"What?" he asked.

"Just a bit of advice, but I think we should leave the Asari on the ship."

"Samara? Why?"

"She's a Justicar right? Superhero warriors of justice who punish criminals."

"Yeah, surprised you knew that."

Roussel brought her voice down to a whisper. "I'm an agent for SAI Shepard, it's my job to know things." She then brought her voice back up to its regular volume. "We're going to Kuussov, a place filled with criminals. Do the math. I like staring at blue tits as much as anyone else but out there she could become a liability."

Without waiting for his response Roussel moved passed him and disembarked down the boarding ramp.

Again, Shepard hated to admit it but she had a point. On Illium Samara had nearly killed law enforcement officers in order to continue pursing an Ardat-Yakshi, as was in accordance with the Justicar code. While he could always bring up the oath she swore to him and force her not to execute the entire population of Kuussov, he didn't much like the idea of abusing her trust.

"Oh boy," Shepard palmed his face, "this should be fun."

* * *

"I was actually going to suggest the same," said Samara.

"Really?" Shepard was a little surprised.

"Yes. Though I'd like nothing better than to bring the Goddess's justice to this den of lawlessness, I also understand that it would be detrimental to our mission. However the Code is absolute, if I see a criminal I must execute them regardless of the situation. Therefore it is best that I do not see any criminals."

Shepard let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you for understanding."

"Of course. The Code also requires personal sacrifice for the greater good. Besides that, I believe having extra security for our ship would not be amiss." Samara turned her head to look at the other ships that occupied the same stretch of flat land as the _JingXi_ , most likely owned by crews that didn't want to pay the city's docking fee. A few members of those other ships had been staring intently at the _JingXi_ , most likely sizing up how difficult it might be to steal it.

"Yeah, it'll be good to know that no one will steal our fuel tank while we're out. Just make sure you to play nice with them alright?" Shepard gestured to Roussel's marines, who were also staying on the ship on account of their recognizable armor. "Roussel might be a bitch but her marines are Alliance."

Samara nodded. "As you say commander, may the Goddess guide your path."

* * *

There was 8 miles of flat yet rough terrain between the landing site and the city limits. Thankfully they had not needed to walk it. Stowed in the _JingXi's_ cargo bay was an old commercial truck. Unlike most modern vehicles this one utilized a set of wheels instead of mass effect fields.

Roussel drove the truck while Shepard rode shotgun, Bau chose to sit in the seat between them. The rest of the team was forced to ride in the trailer with the contraband. It was a short and silent trip during which Shepard mentally reviewed the plan.

Soon they arrived but were stopped by a group of less than friendly looking individuals.

"You! Stop there!" a Turian wearing ragged clothes shouted.

Roussel slowed the truck to a stop as ordered, rolled down the window, and stuck her head out. "What do you want?" she asked tersely.

The Turian spat onto the ground and grinned, showing his mouth full of needle sharp teeth. "You better be more polite off-worlder. You see there's a toll for entering Kuussov."

"Really, I had no idea," said Roussel, her tone conveying that she was not in the least bit convinced.

"Yeah? Well that doesn't mean you're not going to pay it." As the Turian talked Shepard noticed that two of his friends, a Batarian and a Salarian, were making their way to his side of the truck.

"And I assume you gentlemen are going to be the ones to collect this toll?" asked Roussel. Shepard saw her hand move to the pistol taped beneath the wheel.

"That's right. Don't worry, since this is you're first time I'll be gentle and give you a discount." The Batarian and Salarian were now nearly arms length away from Shepard's door. Behind the Turian a surly looking Krogan was cradling a shotgun.

"A discount. My, that's very generous of you."

"Yeah well, I'm a generous guy."

"So how much do I have to pay?"

The Turian smiled and looked back the Krogan who chuckled. "A mere 100 platinum a head should do it."

Shepard rolled his eyes. If he hadn't been sure that this was a scam before he was definitely certain about it now. The Salarian thug noticed his behavior and frowned while toggling the safety off of his submachine gun.

"100 platinum a head?" Roussel feigned horror.

"That's right. You're lucky I'm nice, otherwise it'd be 200."

"Well gee mister, I'm not sure everyone can pay."

That news seemed to please the Turian greatly. "Well, that is a shame. But tell you what, me and my boys here will have a look through your cargo. We'll take just enough to cover the cost." The Turian then sauntered up to the truck and put a sharp talon underneath the woman's chin. "Unless maybe...you'd like to pay in other ways?"

Roussel had apparently had enough of toying with the poor thug. Her voice became hard and threatening. "As tempting as that might be, I don't think my friend here would appreciate that."

The Turian was about ask what friend, when he suddenly saw Bau pull out a pistol and aim it down at him. His eyes widened in terror as he realized what was happening. The Salarian and Batarian thug noticed and immediately tried to grab their own weapons, but Shepard raised a glowing blue palm in their direction.

"I wouldn't," he warned and they immediately backed off.

The Krogan snarled and aimed his shotgun at the truck. Roussel ripped her pistol from its hiding placed and fired a single shot. The Krogan howled and dropped his weapon, the hand holding it was now nothing more than a bloody stump.

"Spirits! Okay! Okay! We surrender or whatever! We're sorry! Please don't kill us!" the Turian begged, his earlier confidence suddenly gone.

"You're sorry? You try to rob us and you think saying sorry is going to make us forgive you?"

"Uh...yes?" the Turian said hopefully.

Roussel silently glared at the Turian.

"Alright, fine! Just don't shoot me! Please!" The Turian reached into a pouch at his side and produced a number of platinum chips. "This is all we got today. Take it and please just leave us alone! We'll never bother you again."

Roussel swiped the money from him and Bau lowered his weapon. The Turian immediately let out a relieved sigh.

"You had better not," Roussel stated simply. The truck pulled forward, leaving the highway thugs to wallow in their humiliation.

"That was surprisingly restrained for you," said Shepard when they were far enough away. "I fully expected you to kill all of them."

"Agreed," said Bau, much to Shepard's own amusement, "based on your usual MO, those thugs should be dead."

"Oh trust me, I wanted to. They're criminals and they deserve no less than to be put down," she said, a small wolfish smirk developing on her lips. "But I'd rather not announce our presence. As small as the chance may be, killing them may draw unwanted attention."

Bau nodded with satisfaction. So far Roussel had proven to be an excellent intelligence operative.

"Besides," Roussel tossed the platinum coins into the air and caught them. "It'd be damn rude to kill them after they paid for our drinks."

* * *

The drive to the mesa was thankfully bereft of anymore highway robbery and filled with more silence, which Shepard was thankful for. It meant that for now, Jack and Miranda had given up on trying to get the best of one another. He took advantage of the quiet to observe the scenery of Kuussov.

Unsurprisingly, the city was just as bleak as the planet it was located on. There was no color in either the few buildings that existed or the clothes that people wore. Everything seemed to be darkened by the ever present muting affect of the planet's atmosphere. Most of the lower city was comprised of tents and shoddily put together structures that provided little in the way of pleasantry. Of the few buildings that existed most were of the cheap prefabricated variety, providing four walls and little else.

Vehicles were in a similar situation. It seemed that in the lower city even the old truck that they were traveling in were uncommon. Shepard saw only a few transport vehicles along the way, all of which were in various states of falling apart.

"Stop! Thief!"

Shepard watched as a Salarian ran from an elderly looking Turian, who was struggling to keep up. Shepard thought about intervening, but Bau seemed to anticipate this and put a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Robert McCall does not care if someone is robbed," the Salarian Spectre reminded.

The elderly Turian collapsed in the street, too exhausted to continue after the thief. No one moved to offer aid, none even turned to acknowledge it. This was an everyday occurrence in the lower city. As Roussel drove on, Shepard noticed a few people move towards the old Turian. They immediately began searching his clothes for anything useful.

"I hate this place already," he muttered aloud.

Before they would reach the upper city Shepard would see more events like the robbery that pricked his strong sense of justice. But he dug his nails into his palms and forced himself to hold back. This planet was outside of the law. Even his Spectre authority had no meaning here. A few times Shepard looked over at Roussel and saw that she had no problems keeping a steely exterior, no surprise there.

Upon reaching the base of the mesa they were confronted by, of all things, a checkpoint.

"More highway men?" asked Shepard.

"Definitely not, look how well armed they are," said Roussel.

Indeed they were nothing like the ones encountered at the edge of the city. They were much better equipped, with combat grade armor instead of ragged clothes and high quality assault rifles instead of cheap pistols and shotguns. The checkpoint itself was a testament to their better funding, with two well built guard towers and a steel bar fence that traveled along the long winding road up to the top of the mesa.

"I thought there was no law on Kal-Riv," said Shepard.

"That's not entirely true," said Bau, "there is one law here: power. These guards are most likely members of one of the factions who live in the upper city."

"But why keep men to guard the entrance?"

"Because power is a fickle thing. It is hard to gain but easy to lose. The best way to make sure you can keep it is to prevent anyone else from ever having the chance to take it away. By making sure not everyone can reach the upper city, the power remains with the elite minority."

Shepard nodded but scowled. It made sense in a sort of twisted and selfish kind of way. If everyone could live in the upper city then living in the upper city wouldn't be special anymore.

Roussel drove up to the gate and lowered her window. A guard, a Turian, slowly walked up to her window. "I haven't seen you before," he noted dryly.

"We're new," Roussel replied simply.

"Mmmhmmm, what's you're business in the upper city?"

"Got shipment of weapons and sand for Eclipse."

The Turian pulled out a datapad. "Name?"

"Jane Smith, and that's Robert McCall," she jabbed a thumb over at Shepard.

"And the Salarian?"

"Security."

"Heh, couldn't afford a Krogan huh?" Bau scowled but otherwise ignored the insult.

"It beats fighting my own battles," said Roussel, "plus its fun to watch him shoot people. Got a little show at the edge of the city, group of trash bandits tried to shake us down."

"Good to know you're enjoying yourself." The guard's datapad chirped. "You check out. Open the gate!"

The gate slid open with a loud screeching groan born from years of neglect.

"Hope you've got a working radio in that thing. It's a long drive up."

Roussel didn't bother to respond and drove the truck through the gate. Just as the guard had warned them it was a very long drive up. Midway up Shepard heard a loud banging noise come from the trailer. He activated his Omni-tool and contacted Garrus.

"Everything okay in there?"

 _"Not really,"_ replied Garrus. _"Grunt is getting a little antsy."_

 _"I WANNA SHOOT SOMETHING!"_ came the Krogan's voice.

"Is there a problem?" asked Bau.

"No, no problem."

 _"Oh sure, you can say that because you're not stuck in a small trailer with a teenage Krogan."_

"This is an easy fix," assured Shepard, "just tell him to start playing Mad Birds on his Omni-tool. He'll calm right down."

 _"That works?"_

"It does."

 _"Alright, but if he tosses me out the back. Just know that it's your fault."_

"I'll try not to let the guilt get to me."

* * *

The upper city was so different from the lower city that Shepard had difficulty believing they were on the same planet. Here the roads were actually paved asphalt instead of trampled dirt, and instead of a thousand tents there were well constructed buildings, some of which stretched up to ten stories tall.

People were different here as well. Their clothes, while not as opulent as the Citadel or Illium, were in much better condition than the patched together pieces worn in the lower city. They also seemed happier, more alive. It occurred to Shepard that while they had driven through the lower city he had not once heard the sound of laughter.

But the upper city still held reminders that this was a lawless planet. Guards wearing armor indicative of their faction patrolled the streets openly bearing their weapons. Occasionally they would hear the sound of gun fire in the distance, but none of the people ever seemed to acknowledge it. Likely they had grown accustomed to it.

Soon they arrived at their destination: _The Endless Void_. What a terrible name for a bar.

Upon parking, Shepard immediately jumped out of the truck and stretched his legs. A chirp came from his Omni-tool and answered it.

 _"We here?"_ asked Garrus.

"Yup."

 _"Thank the spirits. Open it up before I go insane."_

As requested Shepard and Roussel unlocked the trailer doors, allowing his team to file out. Garrus practically charged outside and lovingly touched the ground.

"Happy?" asked an amused Shepard.

The Turian simply glared at him. "Next time, you get to ride in the trailer."

Before he could give a response, Roussel pulled on his shoulder. "Shepard, can I have a word with you?"

"What is it this time?" he asked as they walked to the side.

"You're trophy bot," she pointed at Legion who was still inside the truck trailer. "We need to leave him in the truck."

"What? Why?"

"Do you want to cause a panic? We're trying to keep a low profile remember?"

"Legion has never caused problems when I've taken him out before."

"That's probably because people recognized you as Commander Shepard. Here you're Robert McCall, and Robert McCall does not have a Geth buddy."

Shepard sighed and frustratedly rubbed the back of his head. He really hated this spy stuff, things were so much nicer when it was a simple shoot-the-bad-guy mission.

"Alright fine, I'll tell him to stay on the truck."

"Good, because as it turns out we need someone to make sure no one steals our ride. It can use the computers inside to provide tactical support."

"Computers?"

Like the _JingXi_ , the truck's trailer turned out to be much more impressive on the inside than the outside would suggest. In addition to the contraband cargo, there was a set of cutting edge computers on the level of the _Normandy's_ systems. On one of the monitors Shepard saw a sky view architectural map of the city. Roussel typed a few commands on the keyboard and the map zoomed in to their current location.

"Think you can handle this robot?" she asked Legion.

"We can," Legion replied.

"Good. Let's break into our teams and get this done."

* * *

 **The Endless Void**

After going over the plan one more time and breaking into their teams, Shepard found himself accompanied into _The Endless Void_ by Bau and Roussel. Inside they found that the bar was dimly lit and populated by a variety of different customers. The lack of light seemed to be a conscious choice by the proprietor. It added an atmosphere of mystery to the place.

The trio headed straight for the bar which was manned by a Batarian.

"What can I get you?" he asked while cleaning a glass with a rag.

"Salarian Experiment," said Shepard.

"Sur'Kesh beer with nola berry sauce, got it. And you?"

"Beer," Roussel replied simply.

"Any brand in particular?"

"Surprise me."

"What about you slim?" the bartender asked Bau.

"I'm on duty," the Salarian replied gruffly, playing the part of a bodyguard.

The bartender nodded and soon returned with their drinks. Roussel got a pint of human beer, which she nearly drained in a single go, while Shepard got a tall glass of green liquid. He had never had an 'Salarian Experiment' before, he had ordered it in order as a signal to their STG contact.

Feeling thirsty and a bit adventurous, he scanned the drink first with his Omni-tool's toxicity app. An incident on Omega had made Shepard suspicious of Batarian bartenders. When it came up as clean he took a tentative sip. It tasted a bit like a blonde beer mixed with cherry. Not bad, but he'd had better.

"And then I said, you talk'n to me?! If you're talk'n to me I'm going to have introduce you to my scalpel! Never seen a Krogan run so fast!"

That was the return signal.

"There," Roussel nodded towards a booth in the back corner of the building where a green skinned Salarian was sitting, his only company was an Asari in his lap.

Together the trio moved towards them. The Salarian noticed as they go closer and ordered the Asari, likely a prostitute, to leave. She pouted but did as instructed.

"Gonna be a dry season," greeted the Salarian.

"Probably, but I'd keep an umbrella on hand just in case," replied Shepard.

The Salarian stood up and held out his hand. "It's good to finally meet you Mr..."

"McCall, Robert McCall," said Shepard.

"Mr. McCall, and who is your associate?"

"Jane Smith," answered Roussel.

"A pleasure to meet you Ms. Smith," the Salarian shook her hand as well. He then turned to Bau. "I think I might have seen you before, ever do work on Kal-Riv?"

"Once or twice," Bau replied.

The Salarian, who still had not given his own name, grunted in amusement. "My associates and I are very eager to begin business with you. Please, follow me."

Wordlessly the trio did so. They returned to the bar, as they walked through the door to the back the nameless Salarian threw a nod towards the Batarian bartender, who nodded back. As he entered through the door, Shepard noticed a shotgun strapped to the underside of the bar counter.

They soon found themselves in storage area where boxes containing food and other such supplies were piled high. The nameless Salarian stopped by a specific box and brought out his Omni-tool. He entered in a few commands and, as though possessed, the large box began to slide back. In doing so it revealed a section of the flooring which was in fact a door.

The door slid open with a hiss.

"Cool," Shepard commented.

"Thank you," said the Salarian, "please watch your step on the way down."

Once they were all down inside, the door shut behind them and Shepard could hear the 'box' slide back into place. He hoped that there was more than one way out of here as he did not enjoy the thought of being buried alive.

"We can talk freely now," said the Salarian as they continued their descent down the stairs, "I am Okin Jurot, STG Operative."

"Commander Alan Shepard."

"I know who you are. It's an honor to meet you Commander, and you Spectre Bau."

"Thank you, it's good to see that STG has not degraded in my absence." Shepard thought there was a little cockiness in the Spectre's voice, but it was hard to tell with Salarians.

"And you are Lieutenant Commander Laura Roussel, correct?"

"That's me," said Roussel simply.

"Where are we headed?" asked Shepard.

"Our safe house, where we conduct most of our operation. My commanding officer wants to meet with you."

At the bottom of the stairs there was a tunnel. Like the bar above, it was poorly lit by only a few scattered lamps, so Shepard could not tell how far it stretched. Thankfully the group kept a brisk pace and after only five minutes of walking they came to the end. There they found a solid looking door that felt very out of place surrounded by rocks and dirt. Okin walked up to it and revealed a control pad next to the door, hidden behind a section of fake dirt.

He entered in a 10 digit long code, put his palm down on a scanner for finger print verification, and placed his eye up to a miniature camera which took a retinal scan. With each test a green light lit up on the control panel. Once three lights had turned green the door gave a shudder and slid open.

Inside were two Salarians clad in advanced combat armor and carrying STG Venom shotguns, both of which were pointed at the group. Upon seeing Okin, the two guards lowered their weapons and saluted.

"Please, come inside," said Okin.

Just like the _JingXi_ and the truck, the inside of the STG safehouse was far more impressive than the outside. Shepard internally mused it must be a trend for spies. Ten different Salarians seated in a semi-circle monitored fifty different monitors, five to each operative. Each one was constantly chattering away into a headpiece while simultaneously tapping at keypads and coordinating with each other.

Shepard could barely keep track of what any of them were doing as none of them stayed still long enough for him to catch up. It reminded him of when he'd first met Mordin on Omega. The Salarian had been a whirlwind of activity inside the clinic, diagnosing and solving medical issues quickly, while at the same time finding a cure for a plague that had been ravaging the sector. This was like meeting 10 Mordins at the same time. Shepard braced himself for the inevitable headache that would lead to.

He noted only one Salarian remained still, likely Okin's commanding officer. He stood with his back to them on top of a command dais, monitoring the work of his operatives.

"Major," said Okin, "Commander Shepard has arrived."

The Major turned to face them and Shepard was greeted with a familiar face.

"Major Kirrahe."

"Commander Shepard," Kirrahe stuck out a hand and Shepard took it. "It's good to see you again Commander."

"Likewise."

He then turned to Roussel and Bau.

"Spectre Bau. Good to see you again."

"You as well Kirrahe," Bau gave a curt nod.

"The Butcher," said Kirrahe as he addressed Roussel, making Shepard wince just a bit. He didn't really like it when people called him by his own title, and from the subtle tensing of her neck muscles, Shepard knew that Roussel didn't care for it either. "I've heard word of your exploits. I must say that I'm a bit disappointed."

"Oh?" Roussel raised an eyebrow.

"You lack the sharpened fangs, evil red eye, razor claws, and pointed tail that the Batarians claim you have."

Shepard couldn't help but snicker.

Roussel shrugged nonchalantly. "Benefits of a bit of make up."

"Indeed."

Wishing to change the subject, Shepard asked, "what's STG got you doing out here?"

"Monitoring the Hegemony's slaver trafficking. The Batarians have gone quiet recently and we've yet to determine why. But I imagine you didn't travel all the way into the Traverse just to hear about that. I received contact from Councilor Valern that you require aid with a PMC group known as CAT6?"

Shepard nodded "That's right. We believe that they are involved in a plot to inspire another war with the Krogan."

Instantly, every Salarian stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the Commander. It made him feel like spotlight was shining down on him. Kirrahe noticed and swiveled around wearing a heavy frown.

"Back to work! All of you!" he ordered.

Just as quickly as they'd stopped, they all followed orders and returned to their screens. Though Shepard noted that some of them were occasionally throwing glances back at him over their shoulders.

"Perhaps we should speak privately. Agent Okin Jurot, you are dismissed until further notice."

"Yes Major," Okin saluted, nodded to them, and then disappeared back the way they had come.

"My office is this way," Kirrahe gestured.

True to the Salarian way, Kirrahe's office was incredibly spartan. It consisted of a room able to just barely fit four individuals comfortably, and that was mostly because the only furniture inside was a half-moon shaped desk. There were no chairs as, according to Kirrahe, sitting slowed the mind. Thankfully all present were just fine with standing.

Shepard quickly brought Kirrahe up to speed on the mission. The Salarian listened intently, only interrupting to ask the occasional clarifying question. When Shepard was finished Kirrahe silently leaned forward and placed both hands on his desk.

"This is most disturbing news. The last time the Krogan went to war billions died, whole planets were rendered inhospitable for life."

"You can understand then why the Council decided it might be a good idea for us to help one another," said Shepard.

"I do," nodded Kirrahe. He grabbed a data pad and began dancing his thin fingers across its surface. "My unit hasn't really been paying attention to CAT6. They're a major player in Kuussov's power structure but other than the occasional raid against rival fractions, they haven't been doing anything of particular interest. And you say they are working for the mastermind behind this Krogan Uprising?"

"Yes. Though whether CAT6 is just working for them or actually a front to operate out of, we're still not sure."

"Hmmm, then I suppose you're looking to raid their base here in the city."

"That's the plan, can you assist?"

"I can. I can have a squad of twelve agents ready for a combat mission in just half an hour, though we'll need to do some recon first. We have a preliminary idea of their defenses but nothing solid."

"I have two teams doing recon right now actually," Shepard said, a bit of pride in his voice. "They're supposed to give me a call once each team leader has decided they've learned as much as they can."

Kirrahe looked up from his pad though his fingers continued to work. "That might be a problem. This bunker is shielded against signals, no calls can come in or out except through our own communication's center."

"Standard STG operating procedure," added Bau.

"They're not due to report back in for at least another hour," said Roussel, "we're not in a rush."

Kirrahe returned to his pad. "Good, now about this Captain Tyco. You said that he is the only sure link you have between CAT6 and the 'mastermind' of the uprising?"

"That's right."

"Can you describe him?"

Shepard scratched the stubble on his cheek as he recalled what few memories he had of Tyco. "Human male, about 1.7 meters tall, maybe mid forties. He looked to be of Asian descent, though he apparently grew up back on Earth in a country called New Zealand."

"Anything else?"

"He looked very military, which I guess makes sense for CAT6. His hair was a standard marine cut."

"Is this him?" Bau held out the data pad for them to see and Shepard took sharp breath through his nose.

It was him, Captain Tyco.

"That's the bastard," Shepard answered as he glared down at the picture. "Why do you ask?"

"Because this image was taken from one of our cameras exactly two days ago, five blocks from this building." Shepard's eyes went wide. "Captain Tyco is in the city."

* * *

 **Kal-Riv, Team 2**

 **Garrus, Grunt, Jack**

"I don't get it."

"It's not that hard to understand Grunt," said Garrus, his voice betraying the exhaustion he felt.

"But it doesn't make any sense, this recon. Why would you search out your enemies and then _not_ kill them? It seems a foolish tactic."

Garrus sighed and twitched his mandibles, a Turian expression for irritation. For the last ten minutes he had been attempting, and failing, to explain to Grunt the purpose of a reconnaissance mission. He had explained the same way his drill instructors had done to him during boot camp.

 _To explore an unknown area outside of friendly territory, to gain information about the features of terrain and about the enemy presence._

Unfortunately Grunt's adolescent Krogan sensibilities did not allow him to see the benefits or necessity of such a mission. In his opinion if you found the enemy then you should destroy the enemy. Going back to the Battle Master with information about the enemy meant you had to wait longer to fight and there would be less opponents for you when the battle started.

"Look, all you need to know is that Shepard needs us to do this," Garrus finally said.

Grunt grumbled. "Fine, I'll follow the Battle Master's orders. But if something shoots at us I'm going to shoot back."

"Fair enough." That was probably the best he could get for now.

After Shepard had gone with Roussel and Bau to meet the STG contact at the bar, the rest of them had divided into the two recon teams. Miranda had taken off with Zaeed, leaving Garrus stuck with, much to his own horror, Grunt and Jack. Besides a few annoying and somewhat childish questions, Grunt had caused few problems so far. That wasn't too surprising as the Krogan respected Garrus as one of his Battle Master's closest advisers.

Jack on the other hand did not have such a respect and so Garrus had expected her to be a pain in his ass for the duration of the recon mission. Much to his surprise she had remained very quiet so far. He had seen her act like this only once, after she'd been cowed by The Butcher. It was odd to see her so subdued and Garrus couldn't help but feel like he was looking at a completely different person.

Eventually Jack noticed him staring and scowled. "The fuck you looking at?"

Okay, so not a completely different person.

"Are you alright?" he asked tentatively.

"I'm fucking fine bird brain."

Garrus immediately turned away and sighed. _How does Shepard deal with this?_

At that same time Grunt, who had gotten to the head of their group, began to let out a low growl. Having worked with Grunt before, Garrus knew that the Krogan did that when spotting danger. Instinctively his talons went for his Ventis, mag-locked to his thigh.

But they soon fell away and instead were used to palm his face in disbelief.

The growling was Grunt's stomach, and it wasn't the enemy he'd spotted. It was a food cart.

"Nak beast! Fried Nak beast! Get it hot and fresh! Just one platinum for five strips of crunchy delicious goodness!" Grunt's eyes followed the small plate of fried meat being advertised by the cart's owner, a chubby Batarian.

"I'll take six," said Grunt. The Batarian turned to face the Krogan and smiled.

"Ah! Of course good sir. Clearly you are a Krogan of excellent taste. Six strips of fried Nak beast coming right up!"

"No, not six strips. Six platess."

"Haha, and one with a healthy appetite as well! I can relate," the Batarian said jovially, rubbing his large belly. "Very well, six trays for the hungry Krogan. That'll be eight platinum."

Grunt turned to Garrus. "Can I borrow eight platinum?"

"Grunt, we don't have time to eat."

"Nonsense young Turian! There is always time to fill one's belly," said the Batarian as he threw strips of red meat into a pot of boiling oil.

"Look I'm sure it's delicious, but we really need to-"

"To keep a low profile?" The Batarian's words, though still jovial and friendly, suddenly felt more sly than before. Garrus carefully reached for his Ventis again, his talons closing around the pistol's familiar grip.

"Now now, no need for that, we're all friends here. Besides, I doubt you could draw that Ventis before I can pull out the shotgun I've got here under my cart." The Batarian continued cooking as though they weren't subtly threatening each other's lives.

"Fucking try it," said Jack.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, language young lady."

"Who are you?" asked Garrus.

"Borus, at your service. Retired member of the Hegemony's SIU, and creator of Kuussov's finest cuisine."

Garrus' shook his head in disbelief. "Last I checked retirement from the SIU involved a bullet to the back of the skull and incineration of the corpse."

Borus pulled out finished strips from the pot of oil with a pair of tongs. "It does."

"You look pretty good for a pile of ashes."

"Comes from years of good eating," the Batarian patted his belly appreciatively. Garrus kept his talons curled around the handle of his Ventis.

The SIU was the Batarian Hegemony's special forces. While the majority of the Hegemony's military wasn't much better than a cult of fanatical armed thugs, the SIU were serious business. During the Blitz, SIU commandos that had "gone rogue" aided slavers in fighting Alliance forces. Sabotage, assassinations, and night raids conducted by the commandos had caused havoc among the Alliance. If Borus really was a former member of the SIU he was not nearly as harmless as he appeared to be.

"Here's your first tray buddy," Borus handed Grunt a plate of finished Nak strips. Grunt eagerly grabbed the plate and picked a strip to toss into his awaiting maw, when Garrus stopped him by grabbing his wrist. The Turian's eyes never left the Batarian's.

Borus sighed and picked one of the strips off of Grunt's plate and ate it. Satisfied it wasn't poisoned, Garrus released Grunt's wrist and allowed the Krogan to gorge himself.

"What makes you think we're trying to keep a low profile?"

The Batarian cook tossed more meat into the pot. "Oh, your little group just has that look. Like you believe you could be attacked any minute."

"Isn't that normal for this city?"

"True, but most people who live here are used to it and as a result are a little more lax about the possibility of spontaneous death. You're still all on edge, which means you're new. Trying to get your Krogan friend here to move along quietly told me everything else." Grunt finished the last of the fried Nak and licked his plate. "How was it big guy?"

"More!" Grunt shoved the plate at Borus.

"Hahaha, sure thing big guy. But I think I need to see some payment first. I'm not a charity after all."

Garrus rolled his eyes and tossed Borus the required amount of platinum.

"Thank you kindly," he said and handed Grunt a fresh plate of food. "So let me guess, you're here to find someone?"

"Something like that."

"Hmmm, you know as a simple food cart owner I hear lots of stuff. People don't pay me any mind, after all I'm just a fat Batarian cook trying to make a living."

Garrus cocked one of his brow plates in curiosity. "You a Rat?"

Borus chuckled at that. "You've spent time on Omega haven't you? That's not what they're called in Kuussov. Here we call'em Worms."

"Are you one?" asked Garrus.

The Batarian smiled, showing off a mouth full of sharp teeth. "Maybe."

"How much do you know about CAT6?"

"Depends, how much you willing to pay?"

* * *

 **Kal-Riv, Team 3**

Miranda carefully scanned her eyes along the impressive six meter tall walls of the CAT6 compound. She immediately picked out half a dozen guards walking along the wall, two squads patrolling the streets below, and snipers in the guard towers placed at the four corners of the compound. It was an old fashioned design, comparable to the fortresses of Earth's medieval times. Old but effective.

Speaking of which, Zaeed pulled a pair of antique binoculars and used them to get a better look at their target.

"I could probably get up one of those walls with a bit of climbing rope," said Zaeed. "Then I could open the doors and let in everyone else."

"Doubtful. You'd be spotted before you got half way up."

"Heh, says you."

"Let's try to come up with ways that won't kill us first. If none of those pan out, then we can get back to them."

Zaeed gave Miranda a confused look then returned to his binoculars. "Must be that time of the month," she heard him murmur.

Miranda's irritation with the mercenary skyrocketed but she marshalled her patience and pushed her anger away. She had a mission to do and she could not afford to compromise it because of emotion. That would lead to mistakes, and mistakes lead to casualties.

Casualties like Jacob.

Miranda cursed herself for allowing such thoughts to slip into her mind. Now was not the time to be thinking about this. She could grieve on her own later, when the fate of the crew did not rest on what intel she was able to acquire.

"You got something to say?" asked Zaeed, seemingly sensing her internal struggle.

"No," she replied in a clipped tone.

She heard Zaeed release a quiet sigh but ignored it. Instead she focused on a small squad of CAT6 patrolmen making their way to the nearby gate. The squad leader activated his Omni-tool and held it up to a small scanner. The scanner switched from a red light to a green light, and the gate slid open, allowing the squad passage inside.

Miranda mentally pocketed away that information for later.

A chirp, signaling an incoming call, came from her Omni-tool. She answered it and was greeted by Garrus's familiar gravely voice.

 _"Team Two to Team Three, do you read?"_

"We read you," she replied, "what happened? You were supposed to report in ten minutes ago."

 _"Got held up, but it turned out to be worth it. Met with a Worm that had some solid intel."_

Miranda assumed that 'Worm' was the local slang for a street informant. "What did you get?"

 _"Apparently a few days ago this base got some reinforcements. A single squad."_

"A single squad? That's hardly a game changer."

 _"I know. But get this, the squad of reinforcements wore armor and carried weapons that no one has ever seen before."_

Though not very descriptive, Miranda understood the implication. The squad could be the one led by Captain Tyco, which possibly meant that Tyco himself was on the planet.

"Where are you right now?" she asked.

 _"Six story apartment building on the north side. I'll signal you."_ Miranda turned her attention north. A regular human would have had to squint to get a clear view, but with her genetically perfected vision Miranda easily spotted a lone hand with talons waving from afar.

"I see you," she said, and the hand stopped waving. "What can you see form up there?"

 _"A lot of guns...also two Mako armored personal carriers. It looks like they're guns have been modified to include missile launchers."_

Miranda grimaced, while not a proverbial wrench in the overall plan the presence of armored assault vehicles complicated things. No matter, she would simply adjust the plan accordingly.

 _"Hold on...there's some sort of commotion."_ Miranda listened intently. _"Spirits be blessed, I have visual confirmation on the intel."_

"You see Tyco?" she asked hopefully.

 _"No, one of his cronies. I'll send you the feed from my eye piece."_ Miranda waited patiently while the connection was established. A few moments later and a holographic screen appeared from her Omni-tool, displaying live video footage being captured by Garrus. _"Hold on, let me zoom in."_

There was some loud shuffling as the Turian adjusted his position on the roof. Then the video zoomed down on the CAT6 compound and Miranda saw what Garrus had seen. Even without her eidetic memory there was no way for Miranda to not recognize the figure who was the focus of the video.

She vividly recalled the dark bulky armor and the strange boxy rifles that fired weaponized energy bolts. It was indeed one of those strange soldiers under the command of Tyco, and The Wrath. An involuntary chill ran up her spine at the thought of that monster.

"This is critical intel, we've got to get this to Shepard," she decided.

 _"Agreezzzdd, Izzzzzzz..."_ Garrus's voice sputtered out into static and then finally silence. Miranda frowned, like all her equipment the Omni-tool was in pristine condition. Which meant that the problem with the connection was on Garrus's end, or that-.

Miranda tensed as her ears picked up the sound of footsteps, quiet footsteps. The sound was so faint that were it not for her enhancements she would not have heard it at all. At first she thought they may have belonged to Zaeed, but stealth had never been the mercenary's forte and these footsteps were nearly as muted as Thane's.

She heard a loud crack followed by a cry of pain from Zaeed. "ARGH!"

Miranda spun around, bringing out her Talon pistol as she did. She came about just in time to see Zaeed slump onto ground. Standing above the mercenary's prone form was a humanoid figure clad in a thick dark trench coat. A hood and featureless mask hid the figure's face and the thick coat made gender indeterminable, though Miranda suspected male due to the height.

Without hesitation she aimed at the figure and tightened her finger around the trigger of her weapon. But before the shot could be made the shadowy attacker's hands flashed out and pushed back the pistol's slide, causing the thermal clip to pop out, and effectively rendering it a paperweight.

The loss of her pistol was a surprise, particularly because even with her enhanced reflexes she'd barely been able to see the attacker's movements. But surprise was not enough to disable Miranda. Using her pistol as an impropteau melee weapon she viciously swung at the side of her attacker's head.

Once again she was surprised by the attacker's speed. He easily dodged her strike and stepped inside her guard to deliver a solid strike to her gut. The blow emptied the air from Miranda's lungs and caused no small amount of pain. But she fought through that and swung again, only to once miss a second time.

The attacker moved behind Miranda and snaked an arm around her neck, placing her in a lateral vascular hold that would restrict the flow of oxygen to the brain.

Miranda felt the effects almost immediately. Her vision began to blur and thoughts started to become hazy. A few more seconds and she'd pass out completely. But Miranda didn't let that happen.

Thanks to her father, Miranda's body could produce the peak of human strength. Though she chose not to advertise, it was possible for her to bench press as much as 500 pounds, if she wanted to. As fast as he was, the attacker had no chance of stopping her. With all her strength Miranda pushed her back against the attacker and sent both of them slamming into one of the two buildings that made up the alley way.

Her quick thinking was rewarded with an audible cough of pain and a release from the chokehold. Once free, Miranda took in a deep breath of acrid air for the sake of her strained lungs. But there was no time for a reprieve.

The attacker pulled _something_ from a pouch on his belt and tossed it at Miranda. Instinctively she stretched out a palm and put up a biotic barrier. The object impacted the shimmering blue shield and released a thick puffy cloud of smoke. Miranda at first thought it nothing more than a smoke grenade, but then the heavy gray cloud began to solidify around her barrier.

Miranda's eyes widened in shock. Some sort of fast acting cryogenic formula?

Whatever it was, it had effectively obscured her vision of the attacker and put a physical obstruction preventing retaliation. But she could use that to her advantage, the obstruction went both ways. Now it was just a question of which way the next strike would come from, left or right?

She waited, the adrenaline in her system artificially stretching out each moment of anticipation.

Nothing came. Perhaps the attacker was doing the same as her and waiting to see what move she would make.

Then Miranda felt a _tingle_ move up her spine.

She realized the truth too late and an electric crackle filled her ears just before she felt something jab into the back of her neck. Miranda's vision went blue and her teeth began to chatter uncontrollably. It was like her entire body was having a single massive cramp as every muscle tensed painfully.

Then the crackling went silent. Her muscles went limp and she crumpled onto the dirty street next to Zaeed. Though she willed it with every fiber of her being not to, Miranda's vision slowly began to darken.

A pair of boots shimmered back into existence right in front of Miranda's eyes, confirming her earlier suspicion that the attacker had cloaked himself in a EM based stealth field. She struggled to raise her head and saw her attacker press something on his belt and then heard Garrus's voice return from her Omni-tool.

 _"Miranda? Are you there? Is everything alright? Respond. I repeat, respond to confirm your status."_

She had to warn him, she had to tell him that they'd been compromised. _Get up!_ She told herself. _Don't be the reason the mission fails! Don't let them get away with murdering Jacob!_ With that single thought, anger welled up inside of Miranda. She grabbed hold of that anger and wrestled it into new found strength.

Without warning her hand lashed out and grabbed her attacker by the ankle.

"I'm not done with you yet."

* * *

Garrus scowled darkly.

Something was not right. He'd been about to agree with the plan Miranda had put forward when the connection had abruptly cut off. In his experience, sudden drops in communication were a very bad sign. For the next few minutes afterward he'd kept trying to reach Miranda again.

Jack had compared him to a parrot, whatever that was.

Now suddenly the connection had returned, but Miranda continued to remain silent. His suspicions that something had happened felt nearly confirmed.

"What's going on?" asked Grunt.

"Not sure," Garrus admitted, "I think something might have happened to Team 3."

"Does that mean we get to shoot something?" the Krogan asked hopefully.

"Maybe. I'm going to chance a quick look." Garrus carefully crawled his way over to the edge of the roof. Standing would have been too risky, the CAT6 guards would quickly spot him and likely shoot him on sight with the assumption that he was spying on them, which he was but the Turian doubted they would care to confirm it first.

Upon reaching the edge, Garrus adjusted the magnification of his eye piece to 10x and looked towards the alleyway Miranda and Zaeed had been hiding in.

"Miranda, if you need to keep radio silence but are still there, wave at me."

A few moments passed and then a hand stuck out from the alley and waved at him. Garrus let out a breath of relief, everything was fine.

"I see you," he said.

Miranda's voice suddenly returned. _"Sorry about that. An...unexpected development arose."_

Garrus did not reply immediately. He couldn't recall a single instance where Miranda had apologized for, well...anything. It felt bizarre to hear the words come from her.

"Uh...no problem. As long as everything is alright. We should probably get back to Shepard, he's going to want to know what we found."

 _"Agreed, we'll meet up at the...hold on...something's happening."_

Garrus returned his attention to the CAT6 compound. His bird eye view allowed him a better look at the commotion Miranda had noticed. The two Mako APCs had come to life with a rumble and a number of squads had been released from the compound into the streets. Most of them were headed towards...uh oh.

"We've got a problem," Garrus said into his Omni.

 _"What kind of problem?"_

"I think we've been compromised. You've got 15 plus CAT6 soldiers headed towards your position."

 _"Damn. Alright, new plan. We link up at the bottom floor of your building and-"_

 _"There she is!"_ Garrus heard a new voice followed by the sound of gunfire.

"Miranda?! Miranda?!"

"What the fuck's happening?" asked Jack, but Garrus ignored her query and watched as CAT6 soldiers swarmed into the alley. In the periphery of his vision he also saw more of the PMC troops breaking into the first floor below.

"We've got to go," he decided, "we've got to go right now! Grunt, take point and clear the way down."

"Hehehe, finally something fun to do!" The Krogan pulled out his Claymore shotgun and eagerly ran down the maintenance stairwell that had allowed them entry to the roof. Garrus cast one more glance at the alley and took some comfort in the fact that the CAT6 troopers did not yet look to be victorious.

The unmistakable boom of Grunt's shotgun followed by bloody scream recaptured Garrus's attention. "Let's go," he said to Jack as he drew out his Ventis and she her own Katana shotgun. They followed after Grunt down the maintenance stairwell. Two levels down and they found the first evidence of a skirmish between the Krogan and a squad of unlucky CAT6 soldiers.

One more level down and they caught up to him just as he finished off the last of another squad.

"Weakling!" Grunt fired his Claymore into a retreating soldier, literally blowing the poor man off his feet.

"Good work," commented Garrus. He looked over the stair railing and saw at least two more squads coming up to intercept them. One soldier noticed the Turian staring down at them and fired a burst from his rifle. Garrus quickly jerked back, allowing the rounds to miss. "Damn!" he cursed then turned to Jack. "You get down to the lobby and secure it. Grunt and I will deal with these guys."

Jack gave a mock two fingered salute. "Aye aye captain bird brain."

Without another word the Biotic woman leapt over the railing and fell three stories before reaching the bottom floor in a fiery blue explosion. Standing up in a low crouch Jack surveyed the lobby where a dozen soldiers had their weapons trained on her.

Her lips curved up in a cruel grin. "Wha'sup fuck heads?"

The soldiers opened fire and Jack threw out her hands.

Garrus heard the cries of pain coming from downstairs and knew that Jack had begun her biotic rampage. He almost felt sorry for those CAT6 who had the misfortune of being in the lobby at the wrong time. It would only be a few minutes before she had it cleared, which meant he and Grunt just had to catch up.

A little fewer than two dozen heavily armed soldiers stood between them and the first floor.

"She's taking all the kills!" Grunt complained.

"The let's go!"

The Krogan slammed a new thermal clip into his shotgun and bellowed a heavy war cry as he charged down the stairs. Garrus followed closely behind with his Ventis.

"Armor-Piercing!" he ordered. His Ventis had a recognition system cued to his voice's unique harmonics, at his command the pistol toggled to fire armor-piercing rounds.

"I AM KROGAN!"

Grunt crashed into the first of the soldiers standing in their way, his immense strength allowed him to smash his way through them with brutal savage efficiency. But even as he dealt with the ones in front, the soldiers in the back began to hose him down with automatic weapons fire, gradually chipping away at the Krogan's shields and armor.

Garrus targeted them first. Four shots boomed out from his Ventis and each of them found their way into the head of a CAT6 soldier. The lull in fire allowed Grunt to finish off his victims safely and continue clearing the path forward. The two of them held to this tactic the entire way down, with Grunt in the front soaking up most of the incoming fire while Garrus covered him from the back using his preternatural accuracy to pull off headshot after headshot.

After about two thirds of their number went down, the CAT6 officer in charge apparently realized it was a bad idea to attack the Krogan-Turian duo head on and ordered a full retreat. One soldier lost his nerve so badly that he attempted to hide in a room, closing the door him to keep them out. Garrus casually fired three shots at the door and a moment later he heard the muffled thump of a body hit the floor.

"Running away won't help! You'll just die tired!" As if to iterate, Garrus shot two more retreating soldiers in the back. It was a dirty tactic, but a necessary one in this case.

"Hey! Leave some for me!" demanded Grunt.

Garrus and Grunt soon found themselves on the first floor after having gunned down the last of the retreating soldiers. Inside the lobby they saw the aftermath of Jack's work. Bodies lay strewn about, all with limbs twisted at unnatural angles. One particularly unfortunate soldier had been smeared against the wall above the front desk like an insect across a windshield.

"Eat it motherfuckers!" screamed Jack, tossing a Warp at a group of surviving soldiers. One soldier with a riot shield jumped in front of his comrades and blocked the Biotic attack, allowing his comrades to return fire and force Jack into cover.

"Hi-Ex" Garrus ordered. His Ventis immediately switched to explosive ammunition and then he fired a single shot. The round screeched through the air like a miniature warhead, struck the shield bearer's shoulder, and detonated. The resulting explosion turned the soldier into a bloody mist while his comrades were sent tumbling to the floor.

"Standard," the Ventis switched to 'normal' rounds and Garrus used them to shoot each of the downed soldiers once, just in case the shockwave had simply rendered them unconscious and not dead.

"You okay?" he asked Jack, who had kept safe behind the front desk.

"Fine," she muttered a little ungratefully. "Can we go now?"

"Not yet, we're still waiting for Miranda. She said that she'd meet us here but I lost communications with her. We might have to go save her."

"Heh, more fun," Grunt grinned widely.

Jack was about to make some comment as well but was interrupted when someone entered through the front door. All three of them swiveled to face it, weapons at the ready. It was Miranda, she looked like she'd gone through hell. Her suit and face were covered in grime and her usually perfect hair was fairly disheveled.

"Miranda!" Garrus lowered his pistol, then noticed that Zaeed was not with her. "Where's Massani?"

Through heavy breaths she managed to respond, "he...he's been captured."

"What?! How?!"

Before Miranda could explain, a loud mechanical growl from outside the building answered instead. A mere moment later the entire entrance of the apartment lobby came crashing down as the unmistakable form of a Mako APC came crashing through.

"That's how! Run!"

As the four members of the _Normandy_ turned to run, the CAT6 armored vehicle turned its main gun on them.

"Oh crap!"

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **And that's the chapter, longer than usual to make up for the fact that it took a literal month to get out and the lack of CODEX entry. I realize things have been slow up until now, but fear not. Things are going to pick up and we'll be getting back to the Star Wars characters soon.**

 **I miss writing them as much as you all probably miss reading about them.**

 **I'm fairly confident that the next update won't take as long to get out as this one.**

 **But tell me, who do you think was the mysterious figure that attacked Miranda? Tell me in a review.**

 **I hope this chapter was entertaining for everyone to read. Thank you for all you're feed back from the last chapter. Please continue reviewing and telling me what you think.**

 **That's all for now,**

 **See ya next time!**


	12. Interlude: The Witch and The Warrior

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **hunter 139:** You wanted more Star Wars, I wanted more Star Wars. Guess what? This whole chapter is pretty much Star Wars.

 **Old one Griffin:** I missed The Wrath too. But he's back and he brought an old friend. For the record, I have not mentioned the Eternal Empire yet. I could make up some story about them, but the truth is I don't know what to do with them right now.

 **Terlander:** Thank you for your kind words! It really means a lot! For the Empire!

 **RabidArmenian:** Thanks! I'm glad Tina was able to make you smile, I had fun writing her part of the story.

 **deadtrooper and Guest2:** Thanks!

 **fdsadsaw:** Maybe ;)

 **Guest1:** Thanks, Garrus so far has been my favorite of the ME characters to write.

 **WriteAnon:** Thank you again for your review! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

 **Now I debated whether or not to do this for a number of reasons. Chief among the reasons not to do this interlude was to avoid interrupting the flow of the** _ **Normandy**_ **team's revenge story. But then I thought: "Fuck it", I'm the author and I get to do what I want, and I want to write some stuff for Nox and Wrath.**

 **A lot of you have been telling me how you miss the Star Wars characters. Well you know what? I missed writing about them. So I decided to take a small break from Shep and crew and put out this interlude. I always planned to do it but couldn't figure out how to properly interweave it with everything else. So I just made it it's own thing.**

 **Minor warning, Darth Nox is gonna get a little...'hands on' with some Asari. If you don't feel comfortable with that, skip her section and go right to the part about The Wrath on Tuchanka. I'm serious, Nox is a very,** **VERY** **, bad person. *wink***

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Interlude – The Witch and The Warrior**

 **or**

 **Nox and Wrath mess with the Mass Effect galaxy**

* * *

 **Dromund Kaas, Kaas City**

 **5 years ago**

A long time ago when he had been but an acolyte in the Sith Acadamy on Korriban, The Wrath had been instructed by an Overseer named Tremel to venture into one of the many ancient tombs and slay a creature born of Sith alchemy. He remembered well the fear that he had felt entering its lair. He remembered the paralyzing terror that had grabbed hold of him upon seeing the beast itself.

Now, as the airspeeder descended towards his destination, he found himself wishing to confront the beast again. It was not fear that held him today, for as The Wrath, he knew no fear. Today, he felt...irritation.

It was no ancient tomb that he traveled to this day, but one of the many, many, _many_ palaces of Darth Nox, member of the Dark Council, and Master of the Sphere of Ancient Knowledge. The Wrath personally thought that the Zabrak woman ought to be put in charge of the Sphere of Debauchery, but politics were not his area of expertise.

This particular palace, located on the north side of Kaas City, was one of Nox's 'Pleasure Palaces'. The parties she held in these palaces were legendary for their debased entertainment and activities. The Wrath had never attended one himself, though Nox had sent him invitations to every single one. This was in fact the first time he'd even visited Nox on her territory.

"Should I bring my babies?"

 **"Hm?"** The Wrath turned to the passenger seat, where his companion Vette was sitting.

"My babies," Vette repeated, patting the two blaster pistols she often carried with her. "Should I bring them?"

 **"We're entering the domain of Nox. There's no telling what horrors we'll be faced with. Yes, I think it prudent to enter armed,"** he answered.

"Just checking, I'm told it's impolite to bring blasters to a party. Unless it's a Mandalorian party."

 **"We are not here for the party,"** he reminded her. **"We are here because I need to speak with Nox in person, nothing more."**

"Got it. You do business. I'll see if there's anything worth snatching."

The Wrath ignored the Twi'lek's witty retort and focused on the growing palace before them. Darth Nox's palaces were large, even by the standard of Sith Lords. From a glance he guessed that this one likely covered around 50,000 square meters and stretched up as high as 300 meters. He also noted that the palace was vaguely pyramid shaped, like the Dark Temple. How Nox could afford to build similarly grandiose buildings on multiple planets was a mystery to him.

A chirp from the airspeeder's comm-unit pulled him from his observations. They were being hailed by the palace's docking control center. That it had its own private docks spoke volumes about the amount of money that Nox must have sunken into the construction of this palace.

 _"Unknown speeder, I do not see your transponder on the guest list. Please transmit an invitation code or our defenses will reduce you to ash for the glory of Darth Nox."_ The monotone way the droid issued its warning was fairly humorous.

 **"Transmitting docking codes,"** The Wrath punched a few keys and waited.

 _"Receiving codes...ah, The Lord Wrath. Darth Nox has been expecting you're arrival. Please land in docking bay 12."_

The transmission cut and The Wrath steered the speeder towards the docks. Upon entering he noted that this particular docking bay was full of expensive and rare speeders. His own speeder, of military design, stuck out due to its utilitarian and unaesthetic nature.

A pair of servants were waiting for them when they landed.

"Whoa," said Vette, unable to hide her surprise.

The servants were a pair of female Zeltron, and like all members of their species they were incredibly beautiful. But it wasn't their beauty that stunned Vette, it was their clothing. Both wore strapless tops that were little more than pieces of transparent colorful fabric while their lower modesty was protected by nothing but skirts so short they may as well have been belts.

From a tactical point of view, The Wrath could see why having these Zeltron as greeters could be advantageous. The Zeltron species had two unique abilities, the first was the ability to release potent pheromones that enhanced their attractiveness and likeability to others. It was part of the reason that they were found universally beautiful, even by species that had completely different standards of beauty. The second was a limited telepathic ability to project emotions onto others. A Zeltron could literally force a person feel happy.

"Greetings to you Lord Wrath," said the Zeltron on the right, who wore her hair short.

"It is an honor to have one of Emperor Revan's Chosen here," said the Zeltron on the left, who wore her hair long. Besides the difference in hair length, the two were nearly indistinguishable. Twins maybe?

 **"Where is Nox?"** The Wrath demanded. His voice was a harsh guttural contrast to their melodic speech.

The one with short hair smiled, showing off a dazzling set of teeth. "Lord Nox is currently enjoying the festivities."

"Guests are encouraged to do the same," said the long haired one.

"Perhaps you would..." short hair began.

"...like to do the same," finished long hair.

 **"I have no time for such things. I must speak to Nox, where is she?"** The moment he finished asking, The Wrath felt a slight pressure on his mind. It was the telltale sign that someone was attempting to influence him telepathically. He almost snorted in amusement. The twins were trying to sway him into being more agreeable.

Years of defending against the mental intrusions of Jedi and Sith had caused The Wrath to develop mental defenses forged from cast durasteel. In comparison to the abilities of his usual enemies, the Zeltron's pheromones and empathic abilities almost amusing. When they attempted to reach into his mind they were immediately stonewalled.

The Wrath saw the eyes of both twins marginally widen with surprise. He gave them credit for trying and was about to just push past them to find Nox himself, when behind him Vette let out faint sigh. The Wrath swiveled to look at her and saw that the Twi'lek was wearing a silly grin.

"Maybe...maybe we should join the fun," she said, her eyes were hazy and the way she spoke was slow, like there was a delay on deciding what words to use. "After all, they are being so nice and..." Vette blinked and looked directly at the twins. "...and, hehe, so pretty."

Unbelievable. The Wrath turned to the twins and glared at them. They took the hint, and soon he felt their presence withdraw from the air. The fact that Vette had been influenced was worrying. Her mental defenses were not nearly A formidable as his own, but neither was she weak of mind.

Curious, The Wrath reached out with his own senses and what he found surprised him. Both Zeltron were Force sensitive and, if Vette was any indicator, they were trained. Sith Acolytes maybe? The Wrath mentally shook himself. It did not matter what or who they were, he was only here for one thing.

 **"Take me to Nox."**

This time, the twins offered no argument.

* * *

"That was so weird," said Vette as she massaged her temples. The Wrath did not respond, but she continued to talk regardless. "I mean really weird. I actually... _wanted_ them, like you know, wanted to _be_ with them. But I'm not attracted to other girls!"

The Wrath grunted.

"No, really! I'm not!"

He grunted again.

"Are you listening to me?"

Another grunt.

"Mother of moons! Will you have some sympathy? I'm having a crisis of identi..." Vette trailed off midsentence. The Wrath glanced over his shoulder to see that her mouth was hanging wide open. Her gaze was firmly fixed on the swaying hips of the twins leading them.

Vette's tunnel vision caused her to trip. She would have fallen flat on her face but The Wrath mercifully caught her with the Force.

"What? Oh my gosh it happened again didn't it? Am I going to be like this forever?" she seemed truly horrified, even as The Wrath placed her back on her feet.

 **"It's likely just leftovers of their influence. In a few hours it'll be gone,"** he assured.

Vette wiped her brow. "Phew, that's a relief."

The twins led them to a turbolift large enough to accomadate twice their number. Vette chose to stand as far away from them as the lift would physically allow. The Wrath noted that there weren't nearly enough buttons to take them to every floor of the palace. Upon closer inspection he found that the turbo lift would get them as far as half way up at best.

"During the construction of the palace, Darth Nox ordered that no one turbolift have access to every floor, as a precautionary defense against attackers," explained the long haired twin. It made sense and The Wrath admired Nox's unique thinking. An invading force wouldn't be able to just ride a single turbolift to the top. Instead they'd have to slog through traps, security systems, and defenders to reach the next lift.

Their arrival on the tenth floor was signaled by a friendly chime. They were forced to take two more turbolifts after the first and by then they were only two thirds of the way to the top of the palace. It was when they exited the lift onto the 25th floor that they finally stumbled upon the 'festivities' the twins mentioned before.

 **[Sweet Dreams - Eurythmics]**

"AH!" Vette yelped. A fat human male fell over face first onto the black marble floor. He wasn't dead as far as The Wrath could tell, but even with the filters in his helmet he could smell the alcohol coming off the man.

"This way please," said the short haired twin.

"Lord Nox is but five levels up," said the one with long hair.

"But from here we must take the stairs," short hair finished. The sisters didn't even acknowledge the poor guest on the floor and coldly stepped over his considerable belly.

Traveling up to the top floor, The Wrath and Vette were treated to sights of all sorts of debauched revelry. It was as though every guest had completely forgotten the word "restraint" and abandoned themselves to their basest desires.

The 25th floor seemed obsessed with gorging themselves to death. Some did so by consuming alcohol by the -literal- gallons until they ended up like the fat man and passed out. Others stuffed themselves with expensive foods till they were forced to expel it, and then they resumed their gluttony again.

"More wine!" a mousy looking Mirialan demanded.

A servant droid quickly refilled her glass, but instead she snatched the entire bottle.

On the 26th floor, they barely saw anything as it was completely filled with scented smoke. When Vette accidentally bumped into a Nautolan, he fell onto the floor with a wide grin on his face. It was then that they realized the party goers here were completely drugged out of their minds.

"Do you see a purple flying goober fish?" Vette asked.

 **"No."**

"...uh oh," Vette quickly reached into a pouch on her waist and pulled out a rebreather. She wore it for the remainder of their time on that floor.

The 27th and 28th floor were combined to house a fighting arena. Party goers watched as beasts and gladiators spilled blood for their amusement. Many gambled money on the outcomes of the fights or how long the fight would last. Currently a large Wookiee wielding a massive vibroblade was fighting against a pack of Tukata, and winning judging by the three warm Tukata bodies on the sand.

"60,000 says he kills the rest of them!" shouted someone.

"70,000 says he won't!" someone shot back.

The 28th floor, which doubled as a balcony to view the fights, also had a number of gambling games. At several Sabaak tables, there was enough credits being bet to buy a dreadnought.

"Come on! Red nuna! Red nuna! Red nuna!" a Rodian chanted as a holographic spinner cycled through a number of images. Eventually it came to a stop on a Green Rancor. "NO! Damn it! This thing is rigged!"

"Would you like to try again sir?" asked the droid hosting the game.

"Yes, Red nuna again! I've got a good feeling about it this time."

Upon arriving on the 29th floor, The Wrath heard Vette choke on her own breath. He couldn't blame her. Hundreds of bodies, naked, sweaty, and hot, were entwined with one another in acts of wild lust. People coupled with each other, often more than one other at a time, on the floor, on couches, on seats, on the stairs, wherever they could find room to move around. They did not care that others watched, and there were plenty who did watch and then eagerly joined in.

The Wrath easily filtered away all the sights, sounds, and emotions that bombarded his senses. Vette on the other hand did not have the mental discipline to do so, and was easily mesmerized by all of it.

"Whoa, I didn't know their tentacles could do that," she said aloud, staring at a Quarren coupling with two Humans. The Wrath had to grab her by the collar of her jacket and drag her away from the scene.

The twins guided them to the middle of the floor where there was a large bed with several bodies passionately intertwined on top of it. One of those bodies looked familiar: Nox. Of course she would be at the center of this storm of lust.

"Please wait here," said the twin with long hair. The two Zeltrons then moved to the edge of the bed, The Wrath saw their mouths move but could not hear what they said over the symphony of pleasured moans and screams. Nox must have heard them however, for she disentagled herself from the orgy soon after. The other participants begged for her return, she gave a Chiss and a Twi'lek girl a kiss each before picking up a robe from the floor and covering herself.

The Wrath thanked the Force for small mercies, then immediately took it back when he saw that the robe was left open and covered nothing that mattered. _She's just trying to unbalance you, don't let her_ , he reminded himself as Nox walked up to him.

"Lord Wrath," Nox greeted him with a curt nod, as though this were nothing more than a chance meeting in the streets.

 **"Nox,"** The Wrath returned the greeting. **"We need to speak. Alone."**

"Very well, let us retire to my office. You can leave your Twi'lek with Nafia and Daria," she gestured to the short haired twin and long haired twin respectively. "They'll take care of her."

Vette paled. "Uh...maybe I can come along?" she asked hopefully. But The Wrath had already left with Nox, leaving her with the twins, both of whom were giving her hungry looks. "Sooooo...know any good jokes?"

* * *

 **30th Floor**

Nox's office turned out to be the entire thirtieth floor. Like the rest of the palace it was almost unbearably luxurious. Notable however, were four rows of large glass cases containing a variety of treasures, artifacts, and trophies that led up to a large black marble desk at the other end of the room. The Wrath noted that one of the glass cases housed what appeared to be the mummified remains of a human woman. An inscription on the case read: "ZASH".

"I must say," said Nox as she walked behind her desk, "I honestly never thought you'd come to one of my parties. You're here earlier than I expected."

 **"You knew I was coming?"**

"Why do you think I sent the twins to meet you? I was hoping that their talents would cause you to delay."Nox produced two glasses and a bottle of wine. She filled both to the brim and offered one to him. "Drink?"

The Wrath shook his head. Nox simply shrugged, downed her glass, and then downed the other. "Did you enjoy the twins? I told them to keep you from reaching my bedroom by any means."

 **"You're bedroom?"**

"The 29th floor, it's my bedroom."

Of course it was. **"I don't appreciate these games Nox, I'm here on important business."**

"It's always business with you Wrath," Nox sat down on top of her desk and crossed her arms under her breasts. "Don't you know how to have fun?"

 **"I know my duty, that's all I need."**

Nox rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Must you always be so overly dramatic? Relax! Enjoy your victory over the Jedi! Have a drink!" She refilled both glasses. "Enjoy some release!"

 **"Nothing about destroying my mind with alcohol or having sex with slaves appeals to me."**

"Slaves?"

 **"Your Zeltron twins, they are slaves are they not?"**

Nox snorted. "Slavery is illegal Lord Wrath, or at least, it soon will be at the rate our Emperor is pushing reforms. Nafia, Daria, and all the servants in all of my palaces serve me of their own freewill."

 **"After they've undergone indoctrination."** Nox said nothing to deny it and instead put down her glass and began walking towards him. It was the walk of a predator as it slowly approached its prey. But The Wrath was not prey, and so he stood his ground even as Nox stepped in uncomfortably close.

"If you're not interested in finding release with underlings, then perhaps someone closer to your status would be more to your liking?" The Wrath did not like this line of inquiry, but he showed none of his unease. Nox stepped in closer, pressing her bare body against the cold metal of his armor. "Maybe someone like...me?"

Her hand brushed the codpiece of his armor.

 **"Stop that,"** he finally ordered.

"Aww, don't want to play?" Nox put on her best pouting face.

 **"I've had my fill of romance with insane women."** Unwanted memories of Jaesa Willsaam resurfaced in his mind. They were of a time when she had been his only apprentice and he had been...emotionally vulnerable. Truthfully, part of the reason that The Wrath found Darth Nox so irritating was because she had an eerily similar personality to his former apprentice.

Just like Jaesa, Nox's body was indeed inviting. During his younger years physical beauty and a willingness to have sex would have been enough to entice him. But he wiser now than he was then, and The Wrath could see the madness hidden behind the eyes of both women. It curdled his stomach and turned him off to any thoughts intimacy.

Nox reached to cup his cheek. "Come on, give me a kiss."

Driven by the anger of his memories, The Wrath snapped a hand up and grabbed Nox by the throat. She showed no surprise nor any hint of fear, but he could see that she was cautious now. Good, she needed to understand that he would only allow himself to be pushed to so far. Slowly, she raised both of her hands in the universal sign for peace.

His point had been made, and so The Wrath released her.

She stepped back and massaged her neck. Oddly enough the Zabrak had a smug look written onto her face. "Hmmm, you have strong fingers. The woman who finally catches you're attention is going to be _very_ lucky."

The Wrath just glared at her.

"Alright, enough games then." Nox sat back down on top of her desk. "What is so important that you had to come in person and drag me away from my own party?"

 **"We've found the Jedi."**

It was the first time he'd seen Nox legitimately surprised. She quickly recovered from her shock however and adopted a much more engaged attitude.

"I'm listening."

* * *

 **Milky Way Galaxy**

 **Athena Nebula, Parnitha System**

 **Thessia, Island of Kroy**

 **4 Years Ago**

The Temple of Unity was one of the most important sites in all Asari culture. It was where the most crucial topics of their peoples were debated and decided by the wisest Asari Matriarchs. In ancient times, before the Asari had learned how to sail through the void of space, the Temple of Unity had been instrumental in ensuring that conflicts between the Republics were solved peacefully and without conflict. As a result, of all the Citadel races, only the Asari could claim that not a single war had ever broken out among their people.

In modern days, the Temple of Unity continued to serve the same purpose: peace. Just as their ancestors had done in the past, the wisest Matriarchs of Thessia gathered at the temple once every lunar cycle to discuss and debate.

Amalicia Betora, head of House Betora, reclined in her luxuriantly comfortable chair only half listening to the current discussion. Seated below her in a large semi-circle were hundreds of other Matriarchs. Amalicia Betora's seat was located at the top ring of the amphitheater style room, a level reserved solely for the Matriarchs of the most revered houses.

The altitude of her seat offered an advantageous view of the entire hall, as well as the current debate.

"The death sentence is a barbaric and outdated means of issuing justice. You would so readily snuff out the life at your mercy, when instead it could be redeemed?" asked Matriarch Lynem Radora, the head of House Radora.

"I appreciate your idealism Matriarch Radora, even admire it to a degree," replied Matriarch Uli Ak'vena, head of House Ak'vena. "But I wonder if it has blinded you. Redeem them? Why should they be even given the chance? The only criminals the courts of the Republic of Metera give the death sentence are mass murderers, rapists, and terrorist."

"Even the worst of criminals can be brought to see the Goddess's light with the right amount of time and caring."

"And how shall this time be paid for Radora? By the families of their victims, by the victims themselves? You would ask law abiding members of Metera to pay for the care of a criminal who murdered over a dozen Asari?"

"How can you reduce a life to an equation of credits and resources? Have you no sympathy for…"

Amalicia eventually tuned out the debate completely as it continued to drag on. She knew that in the end it did not matter how loudly either side shouted or how convincing of an argument they made. Ultimately it would be up to the people of the Republic of Metera to decide whether or not they would continue using the death sentence. And since House Ak'vena was the most influential house in Metera, they would most certainly defer to Uli Ak'vena's opinion and continue.

So in the end, this debate was little more than a show for all those in attendance, and nothing would be accomplished by the end of the day.

The thought of it made Amalicia sigh in frustration.

* * *

After another three hours that resulted in exactly what Amalicia had predicted, a call for an afternoon recess was made, one that Amalicia herself immediately seconded.

Escorted by her bodyguard, she retried to one of the many lounges located in the area to enjoy some Elasa, a kind of liquor laced with Element Zero made only on Thessia. Amalicia had hoped that a stiff drink would ease her mind, but it did not have the desired effect. Instead she only seemed to sink deeper into her cynicism.

"Fools, all of them," she muttered.

"Pardon Matriarch?" Amalicia looked up from her drink to see the captain of her bodyguard, Saril Mi'Siri.

At first glance one would not think Saril dangerous enough to be a bodyguard, for she stood shorter than most Asari. But Amalicia had seen firsthand what she could do with the sword on her back.

"Excuse me Captain Mi'Siri, I am simply frustrated with today's events."

"You think that Matriarch Ak'vena should have conceded to Matriarch Radora?" asked Saril.

"I care little about what little Uli chooses to do. No, it is simply the process of it all that irks me," she explained. Her eyes drifted from the Captain to a nearby window, which offered a lovely view of the Temple of Unity. It was a gorgeous building, shaped by master artisans of the ancient past to resemble a sea shell. The symbolism being that beneath the shell lay a precious pearl: peaceful talks.

"Such a beautiful lie," Amalicia mused aloud. "Captain, would you mind indulging me an answer?"

"I...will answer to the best of my abilities Matriarch," Saril replied nervously.

"Do you think that the Asari are the greatest species in the galaxy?"

As expected, the Captain struggled to answer. "I...I believe...well..."

"A simple yes or no will suffice Captain."

Saril was silent for a few moments as she tensely considered her response. "...No?" she tried.

"Oh and why not? Our history is filled with peace while the history of other species is filled with conflicts. We can live for millennia while most others barely exist for more than a mere century. Our entire people naturally wields the ability to control the fundamental laws of physics, while only 1 in 1000 children of other species could ever hope for the chance."

"...then, yes?" asked Saril.

"If you believe yes, them why did you answer no?"

"I...thought that yes was the answer you were expecting," she admitted.

"You thought I was trying to trick you."

"Yes Matriarch Betora."

"Understandable, it is after all, a very large question with an answer all Asari feel is obvious. As a result, none ever know what to say when it is asked."

"Do you...disagree Matriarch Betora?"

"I do," said Amalicia without a hint of hesitation. She saw the Captain's eyes widen in surprise and savored the feeling of amusement it brought her. "Do you wish to know why?"

Saril nodded. "Yes Matriarch Betora."

"We are not the greatest, because we lack but one thing that could make the Asari greater than all else in the galaxy: unity."

"But Matriarch, our people are unified."

"In ideology, yes. No other species can claim to share a single religion or to have a single belief. But where the Asari fail, is a lack of purpose."

"I don't understand Matriarch."

"The Humans, though divided by differences of religion and beliefs, are unified in their species purpose to expand their borders. The Turians though differing in clans, are unified in their purpose to quash the separatists and bring their entire people under the rule of the Hierarchy. The Salarians are unified in their constant strive to expand their knowledge of technology and science. Even the Batarians are unified in their fight to prove that they are superior to all other species.

She took a sip of drink, allowing the Captain to process her word.

"And to ensure that these goals are met, each species has a leader. The humans have their Senate, the Turians have their Primarch, the Salarians have their Dalatrass Council, and the Batarians have their Emperor. The Asari however, embrace the individual. We believe in including all our people in the decisions, we offer ourselves to the tyranny of the majority."

"But our people have Matriarchs like you to guide us Matriarch Betora," Mi'Siri pointed out, "are you not our leadership?"

"Not in the same way," Amalicia sipped her drink as she searched for the best way to explain. "Tell me Saril, if tomorrow I were to declare that Pureblood born Asari are not inferior non-Purebloods, do you think that every soul on Syraca would accept that declaration?"

Again Mi'Siri hesitated. Syraca was one of the largest island cities on all of Thessia as well as one of the richest. This wealth was in no small part due to the residents following the wisdom of Matriarch Betora. As a result, the residents followed her word as near law.

"I think that in time they would come to see the wisdom behind your statement," she finally said.

"Perhaps they would, but only after a century of debates and discussions. During which any Pureblood would continue to suffer under that ridiculous social stigma. We have grown slow Captain. Some would call it 'taking the long view', but the universe works in seconds as often as it works in millennia." Amalicia took another sip of her drink. "thousands upon thousands of years of peace, and all it cost us was time. Did you know that it only took the Humans a few thousand years to completely abolish slavery Captain?"

"No Matriarch, I did not."

"It was a bloody affair, filled with wars and political movements. But they got it done. Meanwhile, the Asari allow it to continue on Illium, right on one of our most prosperous worlds."

"But it is not the same as true slavery Matriarch."

"No? Then why do we continue to use it's name?"

The Captain had no answer.

* * *

Sitting comfortably in the corner, unseen to anyone in the room, a hooded figure had watched and listened to every word that Matriarch Betora had said to her bodyguard. And how delicious those word had been. They were filled with displeasure, pride, and conviction. Not only did Betora believe her own words, she was proud of them. She was proud of having an opinion that was contrary to the norm.

But most of all, her words had confirmed something that the figure had suspected since she had taken notice of Betora. The Matriarch felt trapped, by the tyranny of the majority, and by the views of the Asari people.

The words she had spoken today in the privacy of this lounge room were of a woman who wished to break her chains, of a woman who wished to be set free.

A smile curled the corners of Darth Nox's lips.

"You will do," she whispered.

* * *

 **Milky Way Galaxy**

 **Athena Nebula, Parnitha System**

 **Thessia,** **Present Day**

As with the beginning of every Thessia lunar cycle, the Matriarchs had gathered in the Hall of Unity for a meeting that would last seven solar cycles. Just as it had been for the last 4 years, Amalicia had found the topics brought forward to be dull and unimportant.

Once again Matriarch Lynem Radora had questioned Matriarch Uli Ak'vena about her Republic's continual use of the death sentence. This time, to everyone's amazement, Lynem had actually given ground and said that the death sentence was not an unjust punishment, but maintained that the Republic of Metera was still far too liberal with its use.

But even with the rather surprising twist, the entire day had been filled with nothing of importance.

Amalicia had hoped more important topics would be discussed. Such as the Battle of the Citadel, 2 years ago, and the Geth Dreadnought which was clearly not of Geth design. Or perhaps the recent increase in Collector activity. Or even the recent resurrection of Commander Shepard, the first Human Spectre.

But no, the Asari were content to employ a wait and see approach with all of these matters.

Afternoon recess was called for and just as she always had, Amalicia spent it in a lounge sipping a glass of Elasa, enjoying a view of the Temple of Unity.

"Matriarch," Saril approached her from behind. "Apologies for the disturbance, but Matriarch Lulius Uthanear is requesting an audience."

Amalicia quirked a brow. "Send her in."

Saril nodded politely, then returned with Matriarch Uthanear herself.

Lulius Uthanear, Head of House Uthanear, was a legend among the Asari people. House Uthanear was a house known for producing the greatest huntresses of the Asari. Lulius herself was considered the deadliest huntress in 10 generations. Upon seeing her in person, it was not hard to believe the tales. One look at her was all anyone needed to know that Lulius was a warrior to the core.

Her face was painted with feral white designs that included the occasional flecks of red and complimented the regal blue color of her skin. More notable however, was that unlike the other Matriarchs, Amalicia included, who went to the Temple of Unity wearing extravagant gowns, Lulius always attended wearing battle armor.

The set she wore now was beautifully crafted, and in Amalcia's opinion, equal in beauty to any dress worn by the other Matriarchs. It looked to be heavier than the armor worn by most huntresses, and like her facial markings, was painted bone white with red detailing.

Amalicia immediately stood to greet her. "Lulius, this is an unexpected pleasure. It's been too long."

The warrior matriarch gave a friendly smile and, unexpectedly, pulled Amalicia into a warm hug. "Come'ere you beautiful woman."

"Ouch," said Amalicia, as her soft body was crushed against hard armor.

"Oops! Sorry," Lulius released her victim, "did I squish your tits?"

"My _breasts_ are fine," Amalicia assured as she caught her breath. "Would you like to sit?"

"Sure." The two sat side by side on the reclining sofa. Amalicia poured out some Elasa into a spare glass and offered it to Lulius. She took the glass and sniffed it. "Don't suppose you've got any Ryncol?"

"I'm afraid not."

Lulius grunted in disappointment. "Shame, could use some of that good stuff after that snore fest we just sat through."

Amalicia found herself smiling. As always she found Lulius's crude and blunt manner of speech to be endearing. "Yes, I found it rather unenlightening as well."

"Tell me about it! I've seen more exciting slap fights between two Volus. The only good thing about it was that dress Uli was wearing. Do you think her boobs looked a bit bigger than last year?"

Amalicia lost her smile and rolled her eyes. "Why is that the only thing you ever focus on?"

"It's the only interesting thing around. Uli's are almost as nice as yours."

Amalicia crossed her arms _over_ her breasts. "You are such a barbarian."

"You love me," Lulius teasingly elbowed her.

Amalicia merely sighed. "I suppose I do."

"Enough to give me a kiss?"

"Don't push it."

A trace of disappointment crossed Lulius features, but Amalicia did not notice. "You know I'm kidding," she said.

Amalicia sipped her drink. "It's good to see you again. But I sense that this is not merely a social call."

Lulius demeanor shifted from jovial to stern. "No, I'm afraid it isn't." She put down her drink and leaned in closer to her fellow Matriarch. "Amali," she began, using the childhood nickname only she was allowed to use. "You've been stirring the tides and causing some major waves to hit the shores."

Amalicia placed down her drink as well. "I'm certain I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't bullshit me Amali. You know how Maidens love to gossip."

"I won't apologize for having opinions Luli. The Asari always talk about how every individual is free to express their opinions. Well, I'm an individual and I'm expressing."

"You're questioning the fucking status quo. You're saying we should rework our entire way of life. You're holding secret meetings with other houses. That's a bit more serious then being into some kinky sex shit Amali."

"I'm only saying what I believe to be the truth. The Asari have become unfocused. We need strong and certain leadership."

"Amali, for as long as there have been Asari, there has never been any political leaders among our people. All we have is philosophical leaders and that's kept the peace for all of history."

"We have Tevos don't we?" Amalicia pointed out.

"That's different. She's a representative of our people to the other species."

"And what is a leader if not a representative?"

"By the Goddess's tits Amali! Don't play those word games! Not with me!" Lulius demanded so harshly that Amalicia actually recoiled. Seeing her Matriarch's reaction, Saril unsheathed her sword partway. "Shit, I'm sorry Ami I didn't mean..."

"It's alright," Amalicia said softly, then gestured for Saril to stand down. She admired the Captain's loyalty, but even unarmed Lulius would have torn her apart.

"No it's not," said Lulius. "I'm the head of my house. I'm over a thousand fucking years old. You'd think that in all that time I'd have learned how to control my Goddess damned temper. I was never good at this philosophy and politics crap. Days like this make me wish my cousin had never left the house to become a Justicar."

"How is she by the way?"

Lulius shrugged. "Dunno, haven't heard from her in centuries."

An awkward silence fell over the two.

Finally, Lulius broke it. "Amali, I'm just worried for you. There's been talk among the other matriarchs. Some of them think that you're leading a revolution, a separatist movement."

Amalicia crossed her legs and leaned back. "I'm just doing what I think is right. I'm tired Luli, tired of seeing our people crawl along without any sense of urgency. Tired of being the only one who sees that we're in danger of being left in the dirt. Sometimes...sometimes I think we Asari live too long. That our longevity is not a blessing, but a curse."

"Amali, some of them are thinking of taking...drastic measures to get you to shut up."

Amalicia was silent at first, but then responded. "If they feel so threatened, then I must be doing something right."

"Ha! Yeah, I guess so," Lulius said sadly. "Look, I'm not here to tell you to stop. I know that not even the Goddess herself could get you to stop once you've set your mind on something. I'm just here to warn you that a storm might be headed your way."

Unexpectedly, Amalicia took Lulius's hand in her own and squeezed tightly. "A storm is coming Luli. But I'm well prepared for it. In fact I intend to be the cause of it."

"Well, just know that no matter what happens, I'll have your back," Lulius said sincerely.

"I know. You are a dear, dear, friend Luli."

Lulius hesitated for a moment. "Yeah...friend. You too Amali."

* * *

When the day came to end and the sun grew low in Thessia's sky, Amalicia left the Temple of Unity with a heavy heart. Her reunion with Lulius had brought her great joy, but also great sadness. Lulius had been the first one she had thought of going to when she had first begun her movement. But she had held back.

Because a small part of her knew that Lulius might not wholly agree with what was planned, and Amalicia did not know if she had inside of her to face that kind of betrayal.

"Matriarch?"

"Hmm?" she turned to Captain Mi'Siri.

"We are coming up on your estate Matriarch. I just thought you might like to know."

"Thank you Captain."

Like many other Matriarchs, Amalicia had procured a private estate on the island of Kroy for the week that she would be away from her home island to attend these monthly meetings. Her private shuttle landed on the estate's private landing pad.

Since this was the first day of the meeting, all the lights inside had been shut off. Servants quickly hustled prepare the house for the Matriarch. Her guards also did a quick sweep of the building and its surroundings. Despite what Lulius had believed, Amalicia was well aware that he recent activities had caused certain elements to become wary of her.

As a result in the past few year she had invested heavily in increasing her own protection. The estate had been modified with state of the art security systems, including a perimeter alarm, and sentry turrets. Security mechs also patrolled the outside and her guard detail had been increased to 15 huntresses.

"I think I should like to retire to my room," she said upon entering the house.

"Yes Matriarch," said Captain Mi'Siri. She and six other huntresses escorted Amalicia to the bedroom. Since the sweep had not yet been fully completed, the Captain led the way and was the one to open the door to the bed room.

As she opened the door Amalicia saw Mi'Siri tense.

"Who are you?!" the Captain demanded of someone Amalicia could not see. Was there an intruder in her bedroom?

When no answer came Captain Mi'Siri reached back and grasped the hilt of her sword. Two of the four guards that had stayed with Amalicia Betora left the Matriarch's side to stand with their Captain. They pointed their rifles at the unseen intruder.

"This is your last warning," said Mi'Siri, "identify yourself or prepare to meet the Goddess."

"And who shall send me to her? You? I think not little mouse." At the sound of the intruder's voice Amalicia Betora took in a sharp breath.

"Disrespectful cur! You've had your fair warning. Now I shall-"

"Enough!" Amalicia Betora stepped forward and cut off the captain's words.

"Matriarch? Please step back, I shall handle this-"

"I said enough Captain!" Amalicia Betora's words boomed though she never raised her voice, her cold tone conveying clearly that her tolerance was at its end. Mi'Siri wisely kept silent though her hand remained on the hilt of her weapon.

The matriarch took a calming breath, then brushed off some invisible grime and smoothed out her elegant dress. The Captain noted that her lady looked fairly guarded, nervous even, something that she had never seen from the stoic matriarch in her whole three centuries of service.

With graceful measured steps the Matriarch stepped into the door frame and finally laid eyes on the intruder.

She, for the voice was certainly a woman's, sat in one of the two chairs at the room's small breakfast table. The intruder was paying little mind to the Asari, choosing instead to keep her head turned towards the nearby window. Amalicia Betora knew from experience that it offered a splendid view of the ocean. But the more likely reason for the intruder to keep turned was so that her hood would keep her features hidden.

"Hello Amalicia," the intruder said, still not turning to face them.

The Captain bared her teeth in indignant rage. "How dare you refer to the Matriarch so informally! Who do you think you are to-"

"Quiet Captain!" Amalicia Betora ordered harshly. Then her voice turned softer, more respectful as she addressed the intruder. "Please forgive her, she thinks only of my safety."

Mi'Siri was so confused. Who was this stranger that commanded such respect from a revered matriarch, that actually caused her to apologize. The intruder laughed loudly. It was a sweet sound that tasted of amusement and madness and sent fingers crawling up her spine.

"The little mouse has teeth. You have good taste in bodyguards Amalicia." The intruder stood up from her seat and finally turned to face them. Now the Asari could fully see her, unobstructed by the darkness of the shadows that clung to her like a cloak.

Mi'Siri had never seen the style of robes that the intruder wore. They were long and thick, revealing nothing of the individual beneath. A dark purple was the base color and on top of that were runes of some language the Captain had never seen before. Sown in a much lighter purple, the runes seemed to almost glow in the dark with malevolent purpose. Then there were those shoulder pads, which seemed too large to be proper protection.

"[Shall I devour these infidels mistress?]" A new voice, deep and guttural, spoke strange words that the Asari's translator failed to recognize.

Heavy footsteps heralded a new intruder. Mi'Siri heard one of the other guards gasp as a monstrously large form materialized from the dark to stand behind the first intruder.

"Stand down Khem, these ladies are simply doing their job."

At first Mi'Siri thought 'Khem' to be a Krogan, as he was certainly big enough to be one. But even in the dark it was clear that the shape was wrong. He lacked the large fat filled hump that all Krogan had and he had no crest. In fact he looked more human than anything. That is, if a human had grown to a staggering height, gained mountains of muscle, altered their skin to be a pale gray, and filled their mouth full of razor sharp teeth.

"[They threaten harm against you mistress. All who dare challenge you deserve only to fill my belly,]" said Khem.

Again the Asari could not understand what he said. But it sounded threatening. As if to confirm that feeling, Khem pulled a massive sword from off his back. He then pressed a button and what looked like lightning started to run along its length.

Sensing danger, Mi'Siri pulled out her sword. She looked at her blade, masterfully crafted with several eezo cores the size of a marbles embedded along blade. Then she looked at the monster's weapon, it was easily twice as long as her own and much wider. The difference was almost hilarious.

"Khem! Enough, it is not yet time!" the mysterious woman barked.

To Mi'Siri's great surprise, the monster actually put his weapon away after giving the Asari one last threatening look.

"[Yes mistress.]" Mi'Siri still had no idea what the monster was saying, but it sounded submissive.

"Captain," Amalicia finally spoke, "sheath your weapon."

"But Matriarch-"

"Now."

Without another word Mi'Siri did as her Matiarch ordered, then signaled for the guards to lower their rifles. Though the weapons had been put away, the tension in the air did not subside. The bodyguards of both sides still glared at one another with clear hostility.

"I must speak with you," said the female intruder, then she added,"...alone."

Amalicia Betora nodded. "Captain, you are dismissed for the night. Me and my...guest, are not to be disturbed under any circumstances.

Mi'Siri's eyes widened with shock and worry. "Matriarch Betora! I do not believe it wise to leave you alone with a stranger and that..." she looked hard at Khem, "...that thing!"

Amalicia turned to the Captain of her guard and fixed Mi'Siri with a cold stare. "Captain, what is you're role?"

"To protect you Matriarch, with my life if necessary," Mi'Siri immediately replied.

"Is your role to advise me?"

The Captain hesistated this time. "In matters of security and warfare, yes Matriarch."

"But you advise. You do not make my decisions for me. Nor do you question the decisions I make."

"N-no Matriarch, I would never presume to do either."

"Then do not. Carry out my orders. Leave, and ensure that I am not disturbed."

Mi'Siri bowed low. "Yes Matriarch, Goddess light your path." Without looking up Mi'Siri exited the room and the other guards hurriedly followed.

As the door began to slide close behind them, the Captain chanced a look back at the two mysterious strangers. Mi'Siri paused in her step, confusion bringing her to a halt.

"Captain? Is there something wrong?" asked one of the guards.

"I thought..." Mi'Siri shook her head. The dark was likely playing tricks on her eyes. But the first intruder, the hooded woman, Mi'Siri had managed to see the lower half of her face. It had been but a glimpse, but the Captain could swear that she had seen...red skin?

But that was impossible. All Asari were shades of blue, and as far as she knew no humans had red skin.

Yes, she had to be mistaken. There were no species in this galaxy with red skin.

* * *

Amalicia Betora stood alone in the bedroom with only the mystery woman and her monster. As soon as the Captain and the guards had left, the mystery woman finally threw her hood off. Finally she saw her guest's fiery red skin, smooth like a human's and covered in mystic black tattoos. And of course the six small horns that stuck out from her hair; it was a trait unique to the Zabrak.

She had seen them before, of course. In the four years they had had their dealings it was impossible for Amalicia to not have. But even now, Amalicia Betora found herself inexorably drawn to these alien features. She was amazed by how a being from another galaxy could look so similar and yet so exotically different.

"Ah, that's better," said the Zabrak, taking a moment to shake out her ear length dark brown hair.

"Lord Nox, I am most happy to see you again, my master," Amalicia Betora said, hoping that her voice did not give away the yearning she felt.

Nox turned to face her, a strong predatory smile curling her lips. She stepped forward and took Amalicia Betora's chin between her thumb and index finger. "And I am most happy to see you again little Matriarch."

The way Nox spoke to the Matriarch was was overly sweet and coddling, as though she were talking to a cute pet. But even so, Amalicia Betora found herself swimming in the alien's yellow eyes. They were just so incredibly intense that she could not help but let herself be lost in them.

Nox suddenly turned away, breaking eye contact and releasing Amalicia Betora's chin. The Matriarch immediately felt a hole develop in her heart.

"Khem," said Nox, "the Matriarch and I must discuss a great many things. Why don't you go check on the ship."

"[Yes mistress,]" The creature responded in its odd language, bowed, and then disappeared into the shadows of the room.

Amalicia didn't even care to try and find out where or how Khem had left. It was just the two of them now, that realization stirred a sense of excitement and desire inside of the Matriarch that she had not felt since her days as a young adventurous maiden. When Nox turned her attention back to Amalicia , the Asari Matriarch felt her breath catch. Nox was smiling that same smile again. Her yellow eyes flickered down and then slowly dragged them up the Asari's form.

It was clear that Nox was undressing the Matriarch with her eyes. Amalicia found herself withering under the alien's gaze and wishing that Nox would stop teasing and touch her again. It was a perverted and unfitting thought for a Matriarch as revered by her people as Amalicia, but she didn't care. Everyone had their secret vices, and for the last four years, Nox had been Amalicia's.

"Alone at last," Nox said suggestively.

"W-would you like something to drink master? Maybe something to eat?" Amalicia managed to ask.

Nox stepped in _very_ close. Amalicia felt the desire in her core increase dramatically but forced herself to remain in control. She couldn't bare to think of how Nox would think if she just threw herself at the alien like a common whore.

"Yes," Nox whispered and Amalicia Betora shuddered in delight.

"I think that there are several excellent vintages stashed in this room," Amalicia swallowed and tried to keep as much of her dignity as she could while Nox slowly wrapped an arm around her slender waist. "I'll have someone bring up the evening meal. I was thinking of having braised Makaw ribs with a side of AH!" Amalicia yelped as Nox none too gently grabbed her buttocks.

"That sounds lovely," Nox spoke right into the Matriarch's ear hole. Amalicia closed her eyes and visibly shivered with pleasure as the alien's warm breath tickled her skin. "But I'm hungry for something else."

"W-what?"

"You."

Nox's ruby red lips crashed hungrily against Amalicia's sapphire blue lips. The desire that had been building inside of the Matriarch was finally released. Everything that was not her or Nox melted away and Amalicia lost herself in her lover's addictive embrace.

As always Nox was the dominant of the two. On some level of consciousness, Amalicia realized how strange this all was. She was a centuries old Asari Matriarch, head of House Betora, and one of the wisest beings in all of the galaxy. World leaders begged for just the smallest portion of her time, so that she might impart even the smallest iota of her knowledge. Yet against Nox, she could not help but submit.

Then the Zabrak pulled away, breaking the kiss. Without meaning to, Amalicia whimpered at the loss of the intimate connection. Desperately she moved forward for more, but Nox stopped her by pressing a delicate gloved finger to her lips.

"Ah ah ah," she shook her head, as though chiding a child. "First, I need you to make me happy."

Amalicia nodded eagerly and began to lift up the Zabrak's robes, but once again Nox stopped her. The 700 year old Matriarch whimpered and gave Nox a confused look, like a child who didn't understand what to do.

"Not like that, though there will plenty of time for it later." Teasingly, Nox ran a single finger through Amalicia Betora's cleavage.

"Please, I need you master," Amalicia begged, she wrapped her arms around Nox and pulled them closer together. Merely feeling the Zabrak's curves press against her body was enough for her to feel rapture.

The smile on Nox's lips disappeared, replaced with a stern frown, and her eyes seemed to flash dangerously with impatience. "And who are you to demand such from me?" asked the Zabrak, her voice no longer playful.

Amalicia realized that she'd overstepped and quickly backed away. "I'm sorry," she said, lowering her eyes, "I just...it's been so long."

Nox placed a single finger underneath the Asari's chin and gently guided her eyes back up. The Zabrak was no longer frowning, something that Amalicia was immediately thankful for.

"Oh my Matriarch, my sweet, silly little Matriarch," her voice was playful once more. "I want to as well. But as you are so often fond of saying: 'one must ensure the wind is strong and the skies are clear, before you can go sailing'."

Amalicia giggled, for she was indeed fond of that saying. She used it often with young maidens who usually put fun before their duties. It was ironic really, that she was acting just as them. But Nox just had that affect on her.

"Now," Nox seductively began to trace a finger up the bare skin of Amalicia's arm. "I understand that you had a little meeting at the Temple of Unity?"

"Yes," said Amalicia as she struggled to control her anticipation.

The Zabrak's fingers danced to the strap of Amalicia Betora's beautiful dress. "And did you use your time there wisely?"

"Of course."

"Good," Nox pushed the strap aside and the entire dress fell to the floor in a heap. Amalicia now stood entirely exposed before the Zabrak. "Who, if I might ask, seemed the most willing to listen?"

"Ranara Kyana, head of House Kayana," she said.

Nox planted a soft kiss on the nape of Amalicia Betora's neck that sent passion burning through her body. "And?"

"Um...there was also the Matriarch of House V'doris, House Zari, and House Muraus," she listed off.

With every name, Nox planted another kiss. "Very good, all influential names. Tell me more."

"There were some other houses, less influential but they were eager to hear my words."

"Mmmhmmm," Nox brought up a hand and pressed a palm against the Matriarch's left breast, drawing a ragged breath from her. "More?"

"Yes, please!" Amalicia Betora hissed through clenched teeth.

Nox chuckled. "No little Matriarch, I mean more names."

"Oh, I see," she said, her disappointment clear.

"Tell me how many more."

"Master, please..." Amalicia whimpered.

"Oh very well. I do tire of all this business. Just tell me how many Houses have pledged themselves to our cause."

Amalicia hesitated, suddenly very worried, "F-fifty"

Nox suddenly halted her ministrations and pulled away from the Matriarch. Again Amalicia felt as if something was missing without the Zabrak close by. "I was hoping for more."

Amalicia physically felt the temperature of the room drop drastically and a pit of pure fear dig itself in her stomach. Nox was frowning again. Ignoring the beautiful naked Asari before her, the Zabrak pulled away completely and moved to look out a nearby window. She said nothing, only locking her hands behind her back in silent contemplation. Amalicia watched her, feeling emptier and emptier with every moment she was neglected.

"My lady I-"

"Fifty is a disappointing number," interrupted Nox. Amalicia's heart all but broke upon hearing the word 'disappointing'. "I expected more from you my pet."

Tears began to run freely down the Matriarch's cheeks and a few sobs escaped from her mouth. She could not stop imaging the horrible possibilities that could arise from her failure. She hadn't seen her lady in weeks. Maybe this time it would be longer. A month? A year? Five years? Forever? Amalicia would rather die than never see her master again.

Desperately she flung herself at the Zabrak's legs and wrapped her arms around them. "Please! Forgive me! I'll do better I swear by the Goddess!"

At that Nox swung around, anger clear on her beautiful features. " _I. Am. Your. Goddess_. You serve nobody but me! You are mine to do with as _I_ please! Or have you forgotten?!" Purple lightning began to crackle from Nox's finger tips. Amalicia immediately recoiled, even her love for Nox was outstripped from the traumatic fear that arose from the first time she had felt the Zabrak's lightning.

It had been the first time they had met.

Amalicia had been foolish and thought Nox to be no more than a mad alien woman. She had, of all things, tried to subdue Nox with her considerable biotic talents. Instead, she had been brought low in the most humiliating of fashions. Amalicia would never forget the feeling of her master's Force Lightning, the sheer indescribable pain that it inflicted was something not even the most grandiose of words could capture. It had taken only a few minutes under its influence for Amalicia to come to the realization that Nox was a Goddess, and then she had begged for mercy.

Tears flowed freely now from Amalicia's eyes at the thought of being subjected to its touch again. "Please my master! Please! I will do better! I swear it upon-" The lightning around Nox's fingers intensified. Amalicia could almost feel it biting her bare skin. "I swear it upon my life and the lives of all my daughters!"

Upon the Matriarch's declaration the lightning on Nox's hands gradually died away and the anger evident on her face slowly subsided, though her smile did not return. Amalicia felt a great weight lift off of her chest. She had appeased her master, for now. Silently Nox went to sit down at the end of the large bed on the other side of the room. Amalicia did not move to join her for she dared not move without her master's consent.

"Perhaps I judge too harshly," Nox said aloud, more to herself than to Amalicia. "After all, one does not merely dismiss millennia of religious indoctrination and tradition." The Zabrak turned to Amalicia, making it clear that she was addressing the Matriarch. "Do they?"

"N-no my master. The Asari people strongly believe that their way is the epitome of civilization. They are arrogant and stubborn, any possibility that they are in the wrong is immediately dismissed." As she spoke, Amalicia found herself smiling. It gave her great pleasure to know she was slowly regaining her master's trust.

"Hm," Nox nodded thoughtfully, then motioned for her to come forward. Amalicia did so with nervous baby steps. "Sit," ordered Nox, gesturing to her lap. Again, Amalicia did as she was told.

To the Asari's delight, Nox stripped off her gloves and began caressing Amalicia with her bare hands. The feeling of her master's skin against her own was enough for the Matriarch to forget that just a few moments ago she had been utterly terrified of these same fingers.

* * *

Two hours later, the Thessia sun had set.

Matriarch Amalicia Betora was soundly asleep beneath the sheets of her bed. Nox meanwhile sat at the same breakfast table she had first appeared at, sipping a glass of Elasa. Having had her fun, Nox decided that it was time to get an unpleasant piece of business out of the way. She retrieved her communicator from her clothing and contacted her ship. A servant droid answered. _"Greetings master, how may I be of assistance?"_

"Patch me through the ship's long range communications array," she ordered.

 _"Certainly, to whom shall I make this call to?"_

"Contact ID: 12202011."

 _"Very good master. Sending the call now."_

The hologram of the servant droid disappeared. A few moments passed filled only with silence. Then a chirp came from her communicator that indicated the connection had been made.

 _ **"This is The Wrath,"**_ A blue hued holo-image of the Emperor's chief enforcer appeared in her palm. _**"Nox, you are late on your report."**_

Nox snorted. "Apologies Lord Wrath, I had some...additional business to take care of."

The Wrath was silent for a moment, and then asked, _**"Why are you naked?"**_ Nox smiled and was about to answer when he raised a hand to stop her. _**"Never mind, I'm better off not knowing."**_

"Awww, but it's a lovely story. One that's great for those long lonely nights you must suffer through."

 _ **"I don't have the time for you're games Nox."**_

"You know, you should really try having some sex. I know a few nice Asari on Thessia who like broody males. Just sulk a bit, say some dark things, complain about your lot in life, and they'll be begging for a strapping piece of man meat like you to breed them."

The Wrath glowered at her from behind his mask. _**"Are you going to give me a report or not?"**_

Nox sighed, he was being no fun. "Very well. Matriarch Amalicia Betora has been somewhat successful in corralling support."

She repeated what the Matriarch had told her. " _ **That's not enough. The Asari fleet is the most powerful fleet in this galaxy. While no match for the Imperial armada, we do not have time to fight a drawn out conflict. The Emperor wants a clean and quick victory**_ _ **."**_

Nox leaned back and crossed her legs suggestively, making sure that The Wrath would be able to see _all_ of her. "My lord, you of all people should know that there is no thing as a 'clean' victory."

 _ **"It doesn't matter. The Emperor has commanded and we shall obey. More Asari must be turned to our cause."**_

"I agree," said Nox. "Which is why I want your permission to take a more active role."

The Wrath paused. _**"You've never asked my permission for anything."**_

"No, I haven't."

 _ **"You're going to do this whether I allow you or not, aren't you?"**_

"Oh most definitely. Me asking is simply a courtesy."

The Wrath paused again, crossed his arms, and then finally said: _**"Fine, but do not reveal yourself anymore than is necessary. The hour to reveal ourselves draws close. But you will not compromise our cover until then."**_

Nox rolled her eyes. "Please Lord Wrath, remember who you're talking to. I was converting helpless and naive peoples to be Sith servants long before the Emperor even came to power." Without bothering to say goodbye, she cut the transmission.

"My master," Amalicia sat up in her bed. "Is everything alright?"

Nox smiled as the sheets fell away, revealing the Asari's sensuous form. "No my pet, everything is not alright."

"What's wrong master?"

"I am hungry again."

* * *

 **Tuchanka**

 **"Damn that woman."**

His call with Darth Nox had left him in a bad mood, that insufferable woman knew the best ways in which to vex him. If she weren't so good at navigating foreign politics he'd never have brought her to the Relay Galaxy. Unfortunately, she was exactly what he needed when it came to the Asari.

The Wrath put thoughts of the Zabrak out of mind. He'd deal with her later, right now he had more immediate things to take care of.

Wreav had met with the remaining clans that had not yet sworn allegiance to him. The meeting had taken place at the Hollow, a sacred gathering place for the Krogan species. To The Wrath's surprise, Wreav managed to actually sway the majority of the clans who had withheld their loyalty. It had helped that Wreav had a bigger army than all of them combined, but Wreav had also wisely played to the Krogan's shared hatred of the Turians and Salarians.

But a few stubborn clans continued to keep to their independence.

The most vocal of them was Clan Hokar, led by Vark Hokar.

Vark was part of Tuchanka's old blood, he had participated in the Rebellions and he remembered what following Clan Urdnot to war had ultimately ended in. Before all the attendees, Vark had sworn never to follow Clan Urdnot into war again. Wreav had allowed the upstart to leave The Hollow unmolested, it was a sacred area after all. To murder at The Hollow was an offensive crime even in the Krogan's lawless culture.

Foolishness. Vark should have been put down the moment he challenged Wreav. Now he returned to his clan's compound where it would be much harder to kill him.

Dissention, as The Wrath had learned, had to be destroyed the moment it raised its head. Otherwise the unity of would suffer and eventually lead to anarchy. Wreav had suggested laying siege to the Hokar compound, but The Wrath had stopped him. Vark and all of his clan needed to be made an example of.

"Hey!" Vette greeted him, sitting on the ship's boarding ramp, swallowing a mouthful of instant Teltiar noodles. "How'd the meeting go?"

 **"Prepare one of the recon drones,"** The Wrath ordered as he walked past her.

"Why?"

 **"Just do as you're told,"** he growled before disappearing into the ship.

Vette sighed. "Who spit on his nuna eggs this morning?"

* * *

"I don't like this," said Vette as the Fury-class Interceptor flew through the sickly green skies of Tuchanka. When The Wrath, sitting in the command chair, did not answer, she repeated her thoughts. "I don't like this."

 **"You don't have to,"** he finally said, **"you only need to-"**

"To do as I'm told, I know," she interrupted. A slight movement of his head told Vette that he had turned his eyes from the holo-map to her. She tried to ignore the look, but couldn't help feeling a brief moment of panic.

Although she'd faithfully served him for over 7 years, Vette realized that she still felt a healthy amount of fear when it came to The Wrath. She was special in that she could prod him more than most others could and get away with it. But there was always that tiny voice in the back of Vette's head that reminded her he could end her with just a thought.

 **"Is that such a hard thing to do?"** he asked.

"Doing whatever I'm told? I don't know, kind of makes me feel like a slave," she replied.

 **"You're not a slave. Slavery is illegal."** The Wrath stated flatly.

"Sure," she mumbled the word under her breath, but knew that he had still heard it. Vette mentally kicked herself.

Why was she still doing this after so many years. She knew what kind of monster The Wrath was. She'd witnessed the massacres that he'd carried out in the name of the Empire. Was what he was doing here really anything different from what she'd come to expect?

The answer was no. The minute Vark Hokar had opened his big dumb mouth and stated his clan would never join, Vette had known what would happen next.

 **"An example must be made,"** he said in a clipped tone.

"We could just leave them alone."

 **"Unacceptable. Tuchanka must be united."**

"At any cost?" she questioned.

 **"Yes. I thought you of all people would appreciate what that philosophy has accomplished."**

Vette flinched.

"We're coming up on the drop site," she announced, eager to change the subject. "We should go get ready. Two-Vee, take over."

"Yes mistress Vette," the servant droid in the co-pilot seat said. _Mistress_ , she hated that title. That was probably why The Wrath hadn't let her rewrite the droid's settings.

She and The Wrath exited the cockpit and silently walked towards the exit airlock where the boarding ramp was still firmly locked in place. The two did not talk as they patiently waited for Two-Vee to give the signal.

 _You big dummy. Great idea, mouthing off to the one person whose given a damn about you since mom died_ , Vette thought to herself. Though it had never been openly said, there was a sort of stern familial love that existed between her and the Wrath. He was, in many ways, the fatherly big brother that she had never had. Vette liked to think that to The Wrath, she was the annoying little sister that he had never had, or wanted.

 _"Master,"_ Two-Vee's voice came over the ship's intercom. _"We are approaching the drop site. The locals are firing primitive anti-vehicle rockets. Shall I evade?"_

 **"Yes,"** he said, a mere moment later the ship was rocked by an explosion.

 _"My goodness! That was close!"_

Vette groaned. "I should have stayed in the cockpit."

The Wrath grunted an agreement.

 _"Master, we are over the drop site. You may proceed at your leisure. But if I may be so bold, you may wish to hurry. The Krogan appear to have plenty more rockets and will soon turn this ship into a fiery ball of crashing molten metal."_

Taking that as her cue, Vette activated the ship's landing protocols. With the ship still five thousand feet in the air, the boarding ramp lowered out into Tuchanka's dusty skyline and allowed a rush of acrid air inside. Another near miss explosion rocked the ship, but this time they heard it, even over the roar of the ship's engines.

The Wrath calmly walked out onto the edge of the ramp. Against all sense, Vette decided now was good time to try and form some sort of apology for being a brat.

"Hey!" she called to him over the roar of the engines and he swiveled his head to look at her, "you know I'm thankful for everything you've done for me right?!"

There was a pause, before he finally nodded. **"I know."**

Vette smiled, as relief flooded into her. "Just checking!"

Without another word, The Wrath jumped out into the open air. Once he was out of view, hurtling down towards the surface of the planet, Vette retracted the docking ramp and sealed the airlock.

She sighed. "I still feel sorry for all those Krogan."

* * *

As he fell towards the Hokar clan compound below, The Wrath closed his eyes. Not out of fear, something as paltry as falling from the sky at terminal velocity with no landing gear was barely enough to get his pulse racing.

No, he closed his eyes to meditate as he plummeted towards the ground. With the outside world shut out, he entered a mode of complete focus, and called forth his anger.

...

He hears her voice. _"Master! Help!"_

 **"Kira,"** He calls to her, but he knows that she is gone. She is dead.

 _"Master! Please! Don't let them take me!"_

...

When his eyes opened, the ground was much closer.

Instinctively The Wrath called to The Force and it wrapped around his body like a roiling tempest. As he hurtled through the air he flipped himself, switching from a head first fall to a feet first fall. Below, in the courtyard of the Hokar compound, a dozen Krogan had already gathered to greet him.

His feet touched the hard unforgiving ground of the courtyard, cracking it and kicking up a storm of dust. The Wrath remained unharmed, his landing been cushioned by the Force. Before any of the gathered Krogan warriors could open fire, The Wrath threw out his hands and unleashed a wave of power.

The warriors closest to him exploded into smears of orange blood, their bodies popping like bloated bags of meat. Those farther away were thrown clear of the courtyard. A small mercy was that they had all died the minute they had been hit by the Repulse, and thus felt nothing when they splattered onto the various buildings around the compound.

With the immediate threat dealt with, The Wrath took a moment to take in his surroundings. As planned, he had landed in the compound's courtyard, located just behind the towering main gate.

Clan Hokar had set themselves up in an ancient Krogan fortress, one of the few that remained from before the Salarians had uplifted the species. Even from the air, The Wrath could tell that the fortress had seen better days. The high walls used to keep attackers out were in disrepair. Only three of the dozen original guard towers were still standing. And the main keep had a massive hole in its side.

Still, even in this state of disrepair, the fortress was nothing to scoff at when protected by the 100 warriors of Clan Hokar...88 warriors now.

"YOU!" the booming voice of Vark Hokar came from the keep.

The clan chieftain stepped out onto a balcony from which ancient masters of the fortress would have used to address the fortress's occupants. Vark stretched out his arms to both sides, proudly displaying himself to The Wrath. He was an impressively large member of his species, dressed in heavy armor painted blue and black.

"YOU DARE ATTACK CLAN HOKAR?!" Vark demanded.

The Wrath chose not to respond, mostly because the Chieftain was so far away he doubted anything but the booming vocal cords of a Krogan could have been heard.

"YOU HAVE COME TO DIE, PUPPET MASTER OF URDNOT! I SEE THROUGH THE LIES YOU WEAVE! YOU WISH TO USE THE KROGAN PEOPLE AS YOUR OWN! JUST LIKE SAREN DID BEFORE YOU! JUST LIKE THE FOOLISH COUNCIL BEFORE HIM!"

He wasn't wrong, The Wrath noted.

"NEVER AGAIN! FIRST I WILL DESTROY YOU! THEN I WILL DESTROY THAT PUPPET WREAV! PREPARE YOURSELF...FOR DEATH!"

As if on cue, more Krogan warriors flooded out from the various buildings. All of them were heavily armed, armored, and hungry for battle. The Wrath filled his hands with the familiar weight of his twin lightsabers. Their deep red blades sprang to life with a satisfying heavy hum.

"Attack!" roared one of the Hokar warriors.

Standard operating procedure for most species when facing Krogan was to keep at a safe distance. Such procedures did not apply to The Wrath. He charged straight for the thickest concentration of the hulking reptilian warriors.

Screams, blood, and smoke filled the air as The Wrath began to carve his way through Krogan after Krogan.

* * *

Once they had launched The Wrath from the ship's boarding ramp, Vette had sent out a recon drone after him. They would be used to record the inevitable carnage that followed The Wrath once he made contact with the Hokar forces.

He had been very specific about the kind of images he wanted captured: death and destruction.

It was a simple enough job.

It also made Vette want to puke up her lunch.

The Wrath insisted on having the best equipment possible, thus the drones used state of the art video capturing technology. The images that came through onto the ship's holoterminal were _very_ clear. Vette had seen The Wrath in battle before, but even after all these years, seeing him cut down waves of enemies still terrified her.

On the terminal before her a Krogan fired his shotgun wildly. Even through the camera, Vette could see that the reptilian alien was doing everything right when it came to aiming. But against The Wrath, every shot was missed. The Wrath easily closed in and crosscut the Krogan, drawing a black line across the alien's chest, then continued with the momentum of the swing to slash his blades through two more Krogan.

Another Krogan, who was either brave or stupid, dropped his weapon and charged The Wrath. With almost comical ease, The Wrath side stepped and impaled one lightsaber through the Krogan's hump and out the front of his crest. Meanwhile The Wrath stretched out the other blade and gestured upwards. Seven warriors coming to the aid of their fellow clansmen were tossed high into the air.

Three more Krogan appeared in the corner of the image, aiming their weapons at The Wrath's exposed backside. Faster than they could pull their triggers, The Wrath yanked his first blade free, whipped around, and flung the same lightsaber at them. It flew in a red arc, sliced through all three throats, and the returned to his hand.

Without even pausing to look around, The Wrath continued further into the compound. More Krogan died, ignorant of how hopeless their chances were.

Vette shivered in fright and stroked her lekku to calm herself.

There was something just so...murderous about the way he fought. Who dedicated so much of their life to becoming _that_ efficient at killing?

Vette returned her attention to the holo as a Tomkah, a massive Krogan IFV, rolled into view. It turned its main cannon on The Wrath, even as it discharged a dozen more warriors into his path.

The Wrath stretched out one hand and the Tomkah, which must have weighed at least 50 tons, flew off the ground and landed on its backside on top of the same warriors it had just ferried to the battlefield. The crew then stumbled out and tried to carry on without their vehicle.

The Wrath turned them all into smoking corpses with a single bolt of lightning.

Vette shook her head. "Should have run."

More Krogan came and they all died, either by lightsaber or by Force powers. When there was a lull in the fighting, The Wrath actually stopped and took a moment to examine the Tomkah.

* * *

 **Inside the keep**

Vark Hokar, Chieftain of Clan Hokar, sat in the middle of a large rectangular room, on his throne. On the wall behind him, trophies of Clan Hokar's greatest victories were proudly displayed. Among them the skulls of other Krogan, killed in honorable combat, and the claw of a Thresher Maw.

Six heavily armed Krogan, his personal body guard, stood at either side of his throne.

Vark leaned back in his throne and waited for news that the attacker had been destroyed. It had been some time, but he was confident that his warriors would prevail. After all, it was just one, and a human at that. While there were some exceptions, like that Commander Shepard, most humans were weaklings.

He had no doubt that this attacker was no different.

The main entrance of the keep suddenly exploded in a shower of rubble as a tomkah -Vark was fairly certain it belonged to his clan- came flying through. Vark's guard scattered to avoid the airborne land vehicle, the chieftain himself however remained calmly planted on his throne. Just as he expected, it flew over his throne and crashed through the wall behind him to come to a screeching rest deeper inide the keep.

A shower of dust obscured the entrance. But Vark's keen eyes could make out a dark form standing in the hole left by the tomkah. The figure stepped into the keep and Vark snarled.

"You," he spat.

 **"Me,"** The Wrath responded.

Vark's bodyguard snapped their weapons up.

"Stand back," Vark barked. "I shall deal with this outsider myself!"

Hesitantly his bodyguards stepped back and Vark turned his attention back upon The Wrath.

"You will die before this throne, and your corpse shall be used as an example to all of Tuchanka!" With a groan of relieved metal, Vark Hokar rose from his seat. His massive hand gripped the pommel of a machete like sword that had been leaning against the arm rest of the chair.

Vark gave the blade a few experimental swings, before thumbing a switch at the base of the blade. Like his own lightsabers, the weapon suddenly hummed to life as three eye sized Eezo cores that ran the length of the blade activated. The Wrath immediately recognized the weapon for what it was: a Void sword.

Like the more famous Void Hammers, a Krogan Void Sword utilized miniature Eezo cores to allow biotics to channel their powers through the weapon. Vark himself had become cloaked in a thick blue aura that crackled unstably.

When the take over of Clan Udrnot had been done, the Emperor had ordered him not to interfere, citing that the Krogan had to believe that Wreav had bested his sibling, Wrex. Thus, The Wrath had been cheated out of his chance to duel a Krogan Battle Master.

But it seemed that the universe had conspired to repay him.

The Wrath raised his right saber in a duelist's salute. Vark did not return the salute and instead simply bellowed a challenging roar before disappearing in a Biotic Charge.

A wolfish smile touched The Wrath's lips, even as he rolled to the side. Vark reformed from a blue streak a moment later and brought his Void Sword down on the spot the Sith had been standing. The hard stone tiles of the floor were no match for the combination of Krogan strength and Biotic empowerment, and practically exploded apart where Vark had struck.

"Ha! Flee little Human! Flee!" taunted Vark, believing he had already put his opponent on the run.

In truth, The Wrath was simply taking his time to observe the Krogan's fighting style. During the four and a half years he had operated in the Relay galaxy, he had gotten the opportunity to fight all manner of its native warriors, both biotic and non-biotic. But a Krogan Battle Master was a rare thing, and so he intended to squeeze as much value out of this fight as possible. No doubt whatever experience he gained here would be invaluable for the eventuality of when he would face Urdnot Wrex.

And so the first five minutes of the duel consisted entirely of Vark on the offensive and The Wrath on the defensive.

"Rragh! Coward! Stand and fight!" demanded Vark as The Wrath dodged under another of his swipes.

The Krogan's blows were surprisingly precise quick for being a member of a species famed for being big and crude. The wild way Vark attacked reminded The Wrath vaguely of Shii-Cho, the 1st form of Lightsaber combat. Of course, even the youngest Jedi learner or Sith acolyte was far more elegant with Shii-Cho than Vark was with whatever berserker style he was employing.

"Stay still!" Vark was getting frustrated.

Every strike of his sword The Wrath easily avoided. When it became clear blade work would not lead him to victory, Vark resorted to his Biotic powers. Vark focused his Biotics into his Void Sword, causing the Eezo cores to glow brighter, and then slammed it down. A Shockwave shot out from the tip of the blade and rode the floor towards The Wrath.

Gracefully The Wrath leapt over it. While he did, Vark swung his Void Sword again, this time releasing a Biotic Push in the form of a thin crescent blue wave. It struck the Sith dead on and sent him flying back towards the steps to Vark's throne.

But before he could crash to the floor, The Wrath stopped himself with the Force, freezing mid-air, before coming to a gentle landing on his feet.

"I had not expected a true challenge," said Vark, "but at least try to give me a fight before I end your miserable life!"

 **"If you insist."**

A flicker of concern passed over Vark's features, for he noted that the Human did not even seem winded, a strong contradiction from what he had come to understand about their weakling race. But like all Krogan, Vark quashed these concerns with battle lust.

With a roar he performed another Charge, teleporting to The Wrath, and brought his Void Sword in a downward chop while The Wrath brought up his twin blades in an X. The three blades crashed together in resounding crackle of conflicting energy.

Vark was stunned. He had put all of his strength behind that strike and even added to it with biotic empowerment. Yet the Human had easily stopped the attack cold.

The Wrath was considerably less confused, as he held the knowledge that physical empowerment through the Force had allowed his stonewall defense. He was also _not_ surprised that his lightsabers had not simply cut through the Krogan Void Sword the minute the three weapons had collided. About 4 years ago, when he had first begun operating in the Relay Galaxy, The Wrath had had the pleasure of dueling an Asari Blade Master, from House Uthanear.

It was during that duel that he had first discovered that a weapon like the Asari Warp blade, or in this case a Krogan Void Sword, which was constantly surrounded by a Biotic Warp field, could block a lightsaber. He didn't understand the specific science behind the reason, but from what the Imperial scientists were able to explain, the Warp field created similar properties to a Viborblade.

Armed with this knowledge, The Wrath had purposefully allowed the three blades to lock together. Vark's guard was now down and the Krogan would regret being stunned so easily. The sole of The Wrath's armored boot struck Vark square in the gut, specifically where a Krogan's kidneys were located, and sent him flying 6 meters back.

 **"My turn,"** declared The Wrath.

With blinding speed the Sith descended upon the Battle Master.

* * *

Wreav sat in his throne, much like Vark had before the beginning of the fight, and felt a cold pit develop in his stomach. He had known that The Wrath was a powerful fighter, he had smelt it on the Human, his scent was of blood and death.

But this, he could never have predicted.

The Wrath had given no details about how he would deal with Clan Hokar, so naturally, Wreav had gotten curious. Now he wished that he had not.

From a rusty old drone put together by his clan's engineers, Wreav and his bodyguard had watched The Wrath tear through Vark's men like a Thresher through Tuchanka's soil. The Human, if he truly was Human, used a combination of swordplay and those strange biotic like powers. Wreav was personally familiar with the latter, having been choked through a hologram by Emperor Revan.

"...amazing," whispered one of his guards.

Wreav shot the Krogan a withering look, but the guard did not notice. He was far too enraptured by the video of The Wrath dueling Vakar, and Wreav couldn't blame him, or any of them. To them, The Wrath likely appeared to be some sort of mighty war god.

Wreav had seen that look before. He had seen it long ago, except back then it had been Wrex that the clan had been in awe of. And just like then, Wreav suddenly felt very small.

* * *

Within the first minute of The Wrath's offensive, it dawned on Vark just how badly outmatched he was. With his Void Sword and Biotics, the Battle Master had always considered himself a force of nature, an unstoppable whirlwind of wild power.

But The Wrath was a true master: focused, surgical, and adaptable.

For all of his strength and Biotic power, Vark could not match The Wrath's technique and speed. The sheer gap of skill between the two was so apparent that even Vark's soldiers could see it, and it had already killed their previous fervor. Now they simply watched in muted horror.

Vark however refused to simply accept his inevitable death.

He defended against the lightning fast strikes of The Wrath as best as he could. But each time The Wrath was able to sneak in a shallow strike past his guard, usually near somewhere vital. Already Vark was covered in a dozen wounds and he felt his Blood Rage starting to build. He tried to suppress it, but with each new wound it became harder and harder, and soon he started to slip.

With a bellow Vark channeled his Biotics into a fist and slammed it into the ground, creating a powerful Nova, one that The Wrath was forced to break his momentum to defend against. Vark took the opportunity launch a powerful Biotic Push, The Wrath easily countered with a telekinetic Push of his own.

Frustrated, Vark attacked with a furious three strike combo. The Wrath easily deflected each of the heavy strikes away with crisp elegant blade work, and then retaliated by stabbing one of his blades into Vark's knee. The Krogan howled and lashed out, but The Wrath had already moved away.

Just like all the other wounds, the hole in Vark's leg failed to heal quickly. The burning properties of The Wrath's weapons negated the Krogan's natural healing factor, which meant Vark still felt every wound The Wrath had inflicted on him.

 **"At least try to give me a fight before I end your miserable life,"** said The Wrath, repeating Vark's own words from before.

Vark saw red. The Blood Rage that he had been working so hard to suppress finally took over.

"DIE! DIE! DIE!" Vark screamed and unleashed Warp after Warp from his palm, not caring to aim, only wanting to attack his opponent. Impudently, The Wrath batted aside any of the fiery blue orbs that were sent his way. A few went wide, not even coming close to hitting him. One even arced to hit one of Vark's own soldiers, the poor Krogan was immediately reduced into a melted pile of orange sludge.

Finally, having had enough of toying with the chieftain, The Wrath augmented his speed with the Force and dashed towards Vark. In the blink of an eye, The Wrath crossed 10 meters. Vark didn't even have time to react when he felt the first strike cleave through his ribcage. Still in the throes of the Blood Rage, Vark instinctively swung his blade in the direction the strike had come from.

To the Krogan's credit, his swing was accurate. But it was late.

For The Wrath, increasing his speed with the Force was like delving into a separate dimension where everything except him moved at half speed. By the time Vark had even begun his retaliatory strike, The Wrath had already moved away and then returned to deliver another wound to Vark's lower back. Vark once again tried to retaliate, but it was no use. He could not even hope to touch The Wrath.

The fight only lasted another 10 seconds.

During that time, The Wrath landed 32 different strikes on Vark, all over his body.

When the 10 seconds had passed Vark literally fell apart. All the Krogan could do was scream, as his arms and legs came off, the contents of his stomach spilled out onto the floor, and then he was separated from the entire lower half of his torso.

The only thing that had been left undamaged were his heart and brain, so Vark remained just barely alive long enough to comprehend what had happened.

"Wh-Wha?" he managed to choke out as The Wrath stood before him.

 **"In the name of my master Darth Revan, I end your life. For The Empire."**

"Wha-?" Was Vark's last word, before The Wrath stabbed a lightsaber through his crest and into his brain.

Thus ended the life of Vark Hokar, Chieftain of Clan Hokar, Krogan Battle Master, fighting an enemy he never even had the barest chance of defeating.

* * *

 **Urdnot Compound**

The Void Sword sliced into the stone floor with a sharp screech.

From his throne Wreav stared at the weapon in silence. There was no mistaking it, it was Vark's sword, which meant the chieftain of Clan Hokar was now dead. Vark would sooner cut off his own quad before he would part with this sword, it was after all, a precious clan artifact.

"Hokar is no more?" Wreav finally asked, though he already knew the answer, having watched the fight through his spy drone

 **"I left five survivors and sent them to the other clans that have not yet joined. They carry image files of what happened. They will spread word of the fate of those who do not submit."**

"Good," Wreav stood up and walked over to The Wrath. "The future of Tuchanka nears. I have risked much in trusting you and your Empire, Sith. The time nears in which we will see if you can make good on your promises."

 **"All who believe in the Empire will find their faith rewarded in time. You will rule your people and your people will have their vengeance on the galaxy."**

"And what of your...other promise?"

 **"The Empire's best scientists are being put to the task. You will have your cure soon."**

Wreav winced as memories of stillborn Krogan children flashed through his mind. Memories of his mate as she wailed into the night, an egg in her arms, it's shell cold as ice.

"Not soon enough," replied Wreav.

* * *

When he left Wreav's throne room, The Wrath took Hokar's Void Sword with him. He was no Biotic, and thus the weapon was useless to him in a conventional sense, but it was still a finely made weapon. He would find a place for it on his trophy wall.

Half way through the journey to return to the sanctity his ship, The Wrath came to a stop upon entering an empty hall.

 **"You may reveal yourself."**

Marshalla stepped out from the shadows and fell to one knee. "My master."

 **"You did as I ordered?"**

"I did my lord. The Krogan chieftain saw the entire fight."

 **"And what is your assessment of his reaction?"**

There was a pause, as the Cathar carefully chose her words. Finally she said: "Jealousy."

 **"Oh?"** asked The Wrath, with a hint of amusement.

"His warriors were in awe as they watched you slaughter the Hokar Krogan. I don't think Wreav has ever been looked at that way."

The Wrath offered a grunt of agreement. **"The Krogan are a simple people. They respect strength above all else, not unlike the Sith in a way."**

"Yes my lord."

 **"Do you think he will be jealous enough to turn against the Empire?"**

Marshalla hesitated. "I...would not presume to give advice on such things my lord. They are above my abilities."

 **"Are they?"** The Wrath turned to face her. **"I would not ask your opinion if I did not value it Marshalla. Do not attempt to avoid the question again."**

Marshalla bowed her head till her nose touched the ground. "Forgive me master. No, I do not believe the chieftain of Urdnot will betray us. At least, not yet."

 **"Hmmm, continue shadowing him till I say otherwise."**

"Yes my lord." Marshalla disappeared again into the shadows.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **Hey there!**

 **So, good news is that this one didn't take a fucking month. The bad news is that it took like 3 weeks, which is 1 more week than I was hoping it would take. Sorry about that, a combination of work stress, life stress, and getting a minor cold made it harder to write, even though this particular chapter was very fun to write.**

 **I hope you enjoyed Nox's part in this story. The inquisitor story line from SWTOR was always one of my favorite, mostly because I always thought that the inquisitor's lines were very much like things The Joker might say, who is one of my favorite villains.**

 **Nox in this story is fairly evil, as you probably noticed. Her relationship with the Asari Matriarch Amalicia Betora, is kind of like Joker's relationship with Harley Quinn, which is abusive. More about how they met will be revealed in the future.**

 **The next chapter will be sooner, I promise. It's about half written by the time I finished writing this.**

 **But please, tell me what you think about my new Asari characters? How was the fight between The Wrath and Vark? Did you like Vette? TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT!**

 **Till next time!**

 **Bye!**


	13. Chapter 7 part 3: Normandy Strikes Back

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **MEleeSmasher** \- That's a fair criticism. However it wasn't completely a flash back chapter, the later parts were concurrent to what is happening in this arc.

 **RabidArmenian** \- I actually based Nox's personality off of Slannesh. I'm a big WH40k fan, considered writing a story for that universe but wanted to do this one more.

 **Old one Griffin** \- You'll be getting one of your wishes in this chapter.

 **hunter 139** \- I believe Revan choked Wreav at the end of Chapter 1: Mass Effect. Also, exactly! What people seem to always forget are Force-users precognitive abilities.

 **fresh prince1** \- We'll definitely see more force choking through a hologram.

 **joltflier** \- I have big plans for the Asari, all of which will involve Nox.

 **boban094** \- I prefer writing chapters focused on SW characters. Don't worry, we'll be getting a lot more of them after this chapter.

 **Guest 1** \- Thank you, I always thought that Wreav was an underutilized character in the ME franchise. Instead of making him interesting he amounted to: "Not as cool as Wrex".

 **WriteAnon** \- As always, thank you for giving me a very in-depth review. I like that you noticed my line about biotic blades, I wasn't sure if anyone would catch it. Thanks for putting up with my sometimes crappy wording and grammar. I don't have a beta so I have to edit things myself, and that can be pretty hard when all I wanna do is publish the chapter.

 **Terlander** \- Nice catch with the twins! Was wondering if anyone would get that without me spelling it out for them.

 **Kaioo** \- My story is a bit AU. But I'll say that Turians have the largest military fleet. Asari have a fleet that's more technologically advanced and better equipped, since they are economically the most powerful race.

 **Guest 2 -** You'll just have to wait and see.

 **ShiggyDiggered** \- You must think 1 meter = 3 feet, it doesn't. 1 meter = 3.28 feet. The Wrath is 1.91 meters tall, which means he is about 6'3. That makes him taller than average.

 **Eeeeeeeeeey! I'm alive! Happy (really) late holidays! Thank you all for your reviews! I find them all very encouraging! Also, if you are looking to read some good stories while you wait for me, there's a great Mass Effect/Warhammer crossover:** _Only The Faithful_ , **which is awesome! Go read and tell the author I sent you!**

 **I suggest you get a drink or something for this one, cause it's really long.**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 7 part 3 – The** _ **Normandy**_ **Strikes Back**

* * *

Garrus' head had been ringing when he'd woken up this morning, but that had been the nice kind of ringing caused from a little too much drinking the night before. The ringing that he was currently experiencing was the bad kind, the kind caused because a modified Mako APC had nearly blown him up with its missile launcher.

Pain lanced through his skull and snaked its way through his body. Garrus opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. Everything was either too dark or to bright, and nothing was staying as still as it should. He blinked twice in an effort to stabilize his wobbly vision. The first thing that he managed to make out was an armored figure standing above him. Panic bloomed in his chest and he reached for his Ventis, but found it missing. Driven by adrenaline and survival instinct, Garrus settled on tearing out the soldier's throat with his bare talons.

"Whoa!" The figure caught Garrus mid-strike by the wrist. "Easy there Vakarian!"

The voice was familiar but for the life of him Garrus couldn't pin it. He tried to ask who they were, but his words came out of his mouth in a confused jumble. "Wha...who...what?"

"It's okay, just stay still a moment." Memories of the voice were coming back now. He trusted its owner, that much Garrus could recall. Desperately he shook his head and blinked rapidly. Slowly his vision began to steady and come into focus. Then he saw why the voice was familiar.

"Shepard," Garrus realized.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," the Commander smiled. Garrus noted that he was wearing his combat armor and holding an assault rifle. Both were covered in grime and blood, indicating that the commander had been in battle recently. "This is becoming a bad habit of yours, taking missile fire."

"Heh, must be my magnetic personality."

Shepard stared down at him for a moment and then said, "that was terrible."

"I just got blown up by a missile," protested Garrus, "give me a break."

Weakly he sat up, ignoring the pain in his side that the movement caused. Now in a proper position Garrus could now see that they were in some sort of bunker. The room was well lit by pale sterile lights that reminded him of a hospital. There were a number of beds present but the only one occupied was his own.

"Where are the others?" he asked.

"They're fine," assured Shepard, "the missile hit closest to you. Grunt shielded Miranda and Jack from the rest."

"Good," Garrus swung his legs over the side of the bed. "How'd I get here? I remember a Mako crashing through the front of a building and then...nothing."

"The short answer: Roussel and I saved your life."

"Ah...I see, well nothing new there. Did I miss anything special?"

"I punched that Mako you were talking about."

"Really? How'd that work out?"

...

 _Shepard loosed his power with an upward gesture. A wave of blue energy struck the nose of the Mako APC, causing it to stand upright on its two back wheels. Before the vehicle could fall back down, Shepard performed a Charge shoulder first into the APC's thick metal belly._

 _Like a giant animal, the vehicle let out a groan as it's hull crumpled under the sheer force of Shepard's Charge, and then went tumbling end over end down the Kuussov street. More than a few CAT6 soldiers were flattened by the flipping vehicle before it finally came to a halt_ **on top** _of the second Mako._

 _..._

"Of course you would be the one to finally push a Mako to its limits. I'm just glad I wasn't inside of it when you did."

"Hey, my driving isn't _that_ bad," Shepard protested.

"I have the testimony of at least four others that say different." Garrus flexed his talons, the real ones first and then the fake ones on his prosthetic. "If the others are safe then I guess you already know what we found out?"

Shepard nodded. "I do. STG told me first but the team confirmed it for me once we extracted them. Tyco's in Kuussov."

Garrus furrowed his brow plates in confusion. "Not that I don't mind seeing you're ugly mug, but if you know then why are you here with me? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, capturing Tyco?"

"STG has eyes on the CAT6 base. So far we've seen his men, the ones with energy weapons, but still no sign of Tyco himself. We're waiting to see if he'll try to bug out now that he knows we're on the planet. If he does we'll contact Commordore Zaman to intercept. Tyco and his men might have laser guns, but even that won't be enough to take on a carrier battle group."

Garrus relaxed a bit at the explanation. "Good," he nodded, "I was afraid I'd royally screwed the mission...again."

Shepard put a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "Hey, you did great out there. Miranda explained the whole thing. No one could have expected they'd be onto us so quickly."

"Thanks. But we both know that's not true," Garrus grumbled. "By the way, did Miranda tell you what happened to her and...Zaeed!" The Turian jumped to his feet. "Spirits! Shepard! Zaeed was-"

"Captured, we know. That's another reason why we haven't attacked yet. We don't want to risk the possibility of them executing him."

"Blood of my sire!" Garrus cursed angrily. Without warning he unfurled his prosthetic talons and slashed them against the nearby wall. The concrete was no match for the hardened alloy of the Turian's artificial digits and was left scarred with two deep parallel gashes.

Shepard silently stared at the wounded wall and listened to the heavy pants of his Turian friend and the light whirring of the motors inside the mechanical arm.

"You done?" he asked, after some time.

"Yeah," muttered Garrus, but Shepard was not buying it.

"I need a truthful answer. I need to know that you'll have you're head on straight when we go out there again."

The stern tone of the commander reignited Garrus's the old instincts drilled into him by his training sergeants. Standing up straight and with a steady voice he said, "I'm fine. Ready to get some pay back."

"Good, because I'm going to need you're help if we're going to get that grouchy old fart back."

"Heh, maybe we should leave him with them for a few days. He'll probably tell them so many of his stories that they'll all surrender just so we'll take him off they're hands."

At that, both Human and Turian burst out into laughter.

The door to the barracks opened, admitting one of Kirrahe's operatives. Shepard and Garrus managed to smother the last of their giggles.

"Pardon Commander," said the Salarian, "but Major Kirrahe wishes to see you."

* * *

Against Shepard's wishes Garrus accompanied him to the control room. The Turian was still a bit shaky from his wounds, so Shepard was forced to walk at half speed to allow him to keep up. Part of him was thankful to see Garrus up and about so soon. The mission had started off on a sour note, one that Shepard knew Garrus still blamed himself for despite Shepard telling him otherwise. Regardless of whose fault it ultimately was, they would need every hand on deck to get Zaeed back.

Upon arriving at the control room they found Major Kirrahe in talks with Miranda, Roussel, and Bau.

"Major Kirrahe, I hear you've got something," said Shepard.

"Indeed we do," Kirrahe responded. He then spotted Garrus and smiled. "Ah! Vakarian, it is good to see that you have recovered."

Garrus gave a respectful nod. "I'm pretty glad about that myself. It's good to see you again Major."

"Where are the others?" Shepard asked Miranda, when he didn't see the rest of the _Normandy_ team.

"They went back to the truck with Legion, apparently Grunt doesn't like narrow spaces, and neither does Jack."

Shepard nodded. "Well, as long as they keep out of trouble."

"It's probably for the best," agreed Miranda. No doubt she was glad to have Jack as far away as possible. Shepard returned his attention to Kirrahe.

"You found something on CAT6?" he asked.

"Yes," Kirrahe swiveled towards one of the techs below. "Give me screen 604. Time stamp 16:55:69:73"

A holographic screen appeared before the command dais, large enough that all present could see it without trouble.

Kirrahe gestured to the screen. "This is the CAT6 compound, about one hour after your team was discovered."

"It looks a lot busier than when I saw it," noted Garrus. Shepard could see the Turian silently stabbing himself with self loathing. No matter how many times he was assured otherwise, Garrus would always blame himself first. The thought made Shepard sigh internally.

"You are correct Mr. Vakarian. CAT6 has indeed been put on high alert," Kirrahe continued. "But so far their activities have been restricted to the defensive. No CAT6 forces have been sent out to search the city."

"Any sightings on Zaeed?" asked Shepard.

"A few minutes after you and Roussel left, our cameras caught this image." Kirrahe swiped the screen to the side and a new one replaced it. On the new screen they saw Zaeed being dragged between two CAT6 soldiers. "We've seen nothing else since you successfully extracted your team."

"He doesn't look dead," commented Roussel. "They probably want to interrogate him for information."

"He won't give it to them," assured Garrus.

"How the hell did this happen in the first place?" asked Roussel, turning her eye squarely onto Miranda. "You were ambushed right?"

"By a lone assailant, yes," Miranda answered evenly.

"And he got the drop on you?"

Miranda scowled and crossed her arms. "He was well trained. Definitely a professional." Miranda's scowl then turned into a vicious smirk. "I'll bet that he could've probably even snuck up on you."

"If he could, then you would be dead," Roussel shot back. "Instead you got away from him, and left one of your own behind to be interrogated. From what I read in your files I expected better. You should have put a bullet in the old man to prevent an information leakage."

"Agreed," added Bau.

Miranda flinched at the comment. "I...I wouldn't do that to a member of the team."

Roussel looked utterly unconvinced. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Miranda replies vehemently, "if I could have saved Zaeed I would have. But by the time I'd managed to beat my attacker, a squad of commandos and an armored attack vehicle had shown up. I couldn't fight them off, so I ran."

Roussel's eye continued to stare analytically at the raven haired woman. Shepard noted that it seemed the SAI agent didn't entirely believe Miranda's story. For what reason he could not possibly fathom. In the end he simply chalked it up to the spy's natural paranoia, spooks were always seeing problems where none existed. Besides that, what reason would Miranda have to not share the truth?

"What happened happened," he said, catching both women's attention. "What matters now is that we work together to secure Tyco and save Zaeed."

"Agreed," said Garrus.

Neither woman looked like they were about to let this simply die. Internally, Shepard let out another exasperated sigh. The last thing he needed to deal with, was another internal rivalry. Jack and Miranda were bad enough, but now it seemed that they had entered a hate triangle with Roussel. Not that he could really blame them, after all he was hardly the picture of friendliness when it came to Roussel. But for now the SAI Agent provided him with some much needed back up, so he had to keep playing the peacemaker.

"Kirrahe, you've been in the city longer than any of us, you know how things work here. What do you suggest our next move be?" he asked.

Thoughtfully the Salarian placed a thin finger on his chin. "I would advise against making any offensive moves for the moment. The enemy has a significant numbers advantage and the defenses of their base are not to be taken lightly. A wait and see approach would be best. Allow them to make the first move. Then we can come up with an appropriate response."

"We can't just leave Zaeed with them," Garrus protested immediately.

"No, we can't," agreed Shepard. "We need to grab Tyco and we need to rescue Zaeed."

"An assault on the base would be foolhardy, especially when its defenders are prepared for you," Kirrahe pointed out. Shepard noted that it was not a derogatory remark, simply a logical one.

"That may be true. But I'm not about to abandon one of my own."

Kirrahe sighed heavily and sagged his shoulders. "If you are set on taking the offensive against CAT6, then I suggest at the very least we wait for sunset. It will give us time to come up with a plan and the cover darkness. They outnumber us greatly, so we must have surprise on our side."

Shepard nodded in agreement. "Good idea, and thank you Major."

Kirrahe returned the nod with a smile. "You were there to assist me and my team on Virmire, Shepard. You attacked an army of Geth and Krogan for me and mine. It would be poor manners to not return the favor."

"Commander, with your permission I'd like to contact Samara," said Miranda. "Now that Tyco knows of our presence, they may start looking for our ship. She'll need to know to be on the look out."

Shepard nodded. "Do it."

"I'll tell the communications team to expect you," added Kirrahe, earning a thanks from the _Normandy_ XO. "Now, I think that given our limited force, the best way to attack would be..."

* * *

 **Outskirts of Kuussov**

From the depths of meditation came a violent _snap-hiss_ , followed by a voice: **_"I hope you find peace in the embrace of your Goddess."_**

Though she had only heard it once, she knew the voice well. It belonged to the demon who had killed Jacob, and made a mockery of the entire _Normandy_ team: The Wrath. Samara was no stranger to defeat. During her younger years as a mercenary she had met many who had been her superior in combat. Even now, nearly the age of 1000, she still met the occasional individual who could outwit or outfight her.

In the aftermath of meeting such an individual, she would reflect on her defeat and emerge from it a better warrior.

But this was different.

For some reason she shied away from both the memory and contemplation of her fight with The Wrath. Why? She wracked herself for answers, but eventually came to a realization. There was no point in wasting her energy trying to come up with answers on her own. Not when she had The Code.

Mentally she recited The Code, and found comfort in its familiarity.

There was something truly freeing about emptying one's self of personal opinion and allowing the certainty of The Code to fill you up. With The Code there was no gray, no questionable territory, only black and white, wrong and right. The Wrath had attacked her, a member of the Justicar Order. He had nearly killed Shepard, the one whom she had sworn herself to. And he had murdered Jacob Taylor.

In the face of these crimes, Samara knew instinctually that The Code called for The Wrath's execution, and that she would be his executioner. Thus The Code demanded that she find a way to defeat The Wrath

Once again she fell into a meditative trance and recalled her battle with the demonic being. She forced herself to remember the blinding speed with which he had moved and the sheer murderous intent she had felt with his every action. She could still clearly picture his blazing red blades and hear their electric hum, just remembering them was enough to make Samara's muscles tense.

Then she remembered his lightning.

In her entire millennia of existence, Samara had never witnessed anything like it.

Of all her memories of the battle, the clearest was when The Wrath had stretched his hand out and sent a bolt of crackling energy at her. The pain had been worst Samara had ever felt. Just recalling it caused a dull soreness to surface along both her arms.

When The Wrath had unleashed his eldritch power, Samara had instinctively tried to block it with a Barrier. It had worked at first, but then her Barrier had shattered. When she had woken up after the battle, Samara had found both her arms covered in electrical burns. Medicine had treated the wounds and they were now little more than scars.

In her younger years, Samara mused, she would have been horrified by the marring of her once flawless skin. Though she had long since outgrown such vanity, she often found herself tugging on her suit to better cover up her arms.

When next she faced The Wrath she would no doubt obtain many more scars. The thought of facing him again tugged at feelings long buried.

She recognized one feeling as: fear.

Samara had not felt fear for centuries, she had thought The Code had emptied her of it. But she recognized it now, coiled coldly around her heart and chipping away at her resolve. She tried to find courage in The Code by recalling its sutras, but even as she did, memories of a demonic creature hampered her.

When the sound of someone climbing up the maintenance ladder reached her, Samara was almost grateful. She opened her eyes and saw a head of blonde hair appear over the edge of the ship.

"Oh! Sorry ma'am, didn't mean to disturb yer meditation," said Tina, the pilot who had flown the _JingXi_ to Kuussov.

Samara had chosen to perform her mediation on the roof of the ship. It gave a comfortable seclusion and allowed the warmth of the Kal-Riv sun to fall on her. The pilot, Tina, climbed onto the roof carry a bag of what looked to be tools. Samara deduced that she was here to perform some sort of maintenance on the ship.

"Just doin a quick check up," said Tina in her unusual accent. "I'll be done and outta yer hair in a jiffy."

The pilot paused as she realized Samara did not actually have hair.

"Er, I mean...outta yer head...things."

"The proper term is crests," corrected Samara.

"Right...sorry ma'am," Tina sheepishly looked at her toes.

"It is quite alright."

Awkwardly Tina went about performing a variety of checks on the _JingXi_. Samara returned to her meditations and was thankful for the opportunity to focus on tuning out the noise caused by the pilot rather than keeping away the memories of The Wrath. Ten minutes into Tina's maintenance check, she interrupted Samara's meditation again.

"Um ma'am, do ya mind scootin over fer a minute? Yer kind of parked ontop of an access hatch for a secondary sensor."

"Of course," Samara replied serenely, and then gracefully stood up and moved away.

"Thank ya kindly," said Tina as she went about opening the hatch.

As Samara settled on a new spot nearby, she noted that the pilot was casting curious glances towards her.

"Do you require more from me Ms. Walsh?"

Her question caught Tina off guard. "N-no ma'am! I mean...I do, but it's not...I...I was just wondering...how old are you?"

Samara's lips curled into a kind smile. The pilot's question reminded Samara of when her own daughters had been growing up and full of questions. Why is the sea blue? Why do other species have two genders?

"I believe I am 789 of your human years," she answered.

The pilot dropped her tool and her jaw. "Holy-! Yer that old?!" Tina flushed as she realized how loudly she'd said that. "Sorry ma'am, I just...I'd heard Asari could live a long time, but I never thought you could go that high."

"It's quite alright. I am used to such reactions from shorter lived races."

"I have to say," continued Tina as she picked up her tool, "you look mighty good fer being nearly a thousand ma'am. I can see now why some of the girls back home are jealous of yer species." Tina's face scrunched in contemplation. "Now that I think about it, I don't think I've ever seen an ugly Asari, or one with wrinkles. Damn, now I'm jealous. Another thirty years and I'll be lookin like my grand ma's homemade dried prunes."

Samara found herself smiling as the pilot continued to speak. Such levity was a welcome relief from the recent dark thoughts that had plagued her recently.

"You must have lots of family if you've lived that long," commented Tina.

Samara immediately lost her smile. "I did," she replied.

"Did?"

Before she could answer, Samara's Omni-tool chirped. She answered its call and Miranda's voice greeted her.

"Samara? Are you there?"

"I am," she replied, "has something happened Miranda?"

"Zaeed has been captured and we've discovered that our target is on the planet."

"Is _he_ here?" Samara asked tensely.

There was no need to explain what she meant by _he_. Miranda paused a moment before responding. "We don't believe so. In any case, Shepard has decided that it would be best to have everyone in one spot. I'm sending you coordinates for a rendezvous. Meet us there and we'll explain more of the details."

"I shall set off at once."

The call ended with another chirp.

"Sounds like you've got to get into town," said Tina, having heard the conversation. "You can take one of the hover bikes in the cargo hold."

"You have my thanks," Samara nodded curtly then leapt of the _JingXi's_ roof.

Soon after, a throaty roar came from inside the _JingXi's_ cargo hold and Samara drove down the cargo ramp on her newly acquired bike. She made a few doughnuts in the dirt to acclimate herself to the vehicle's handling, before hitting the throttle and speeding off towards the distant city.

Whether she was ready or not to face the demon once again, The Code dictated that she carry out her duty to Shepard.

And Samara would always follow The Code.

* * *

 **CAT6 Kuussov Base**

The world returned to Zaeed in an explosion of cold. Icy water dripped down his face and body, he'd definitely had more pleasant wake ups. As the vision in his eye slowly came into focus Zaeed quickly took stock of himself. His hands had been bound tightly behind his back, and his ankles had been tied to whatever it was that he was sitting in, likely a chair. His armor had been stripped off, as had the body suit beneath it.

Great, he was cold, wet, tied to a chair, and naked.

He'd been in similar situations before. A few had included women of questionable moral standards, others were closer to his current circumstances.

"Comfortable?" asked a voice that made Zaeed want to punch its owner.

"Yeah," he growled, "all I'm missing is a cigar. Any of you boys got one?"

None of the figures standing around him in the barely lit room responded. It took Zaeed a moment, but he realized that he recognized all of them. They were those soldiers that Garrus had talked about. The ones with nice shiny black armor and fancy laser guns. All of them had their bucket shaped helmets on, preventing him from seeing their features. But judging by their hostile stances, he was going to guess they they were all glaring at him.

The thought made Zaeed snort.

"I wouldn't laugh if I were you," said the same voice from before. A hand suddenly roughly grabbed Zaeed by the back of his head and then slammed his face down onto the table in front of him.

Stars exploded in Zaeed's vision and a horrible stinging pain filled his nostrils. Then one of the helmeted soldiers stepped forward and struck him across the jaw.

Zaeed smiled, and spat out a glob of blood. "Is that the best you got?"

"No," said the same voice. It's owner finally stepped around to the other side of the small table. "And trust me, you don't want to see our best, bounty hunter."

Zaeed immediately recognized the man. "You're Tyco."

Tyco's already impressive scowl deepened. "And you are Zaeed Massani, infamous founder of the Blue Suns, and bounty hunter. Recently you joined up with the revived Commander Shepard to defeat a race of secretive aliens known as the Collectors."

"That speech supposed to intimidate me? Christ, I think I preferred the beating."

A soldier stepped forward and punched Zaeed in the gut. It knocked the wind out of him and made his ribs sore, but it was hardly the worst he'd ever had to deal with.

"There we go!" he laughed, "come on! You hit like my grand mother! Show me what you've got!"

The same soldier raised a fist to oblige but then Tyco held up a hand. "Enough! Stand down!"

The soldier immediately did so, snapping back into place beside the others. Zaeed noted how quick the soldier had been to follow orders. These boys weren't amateurs, they were disciplined and well trained. That was fine, Zaeed had plenty of experience killing professionals.

"So," Tyco began, "I can only guess that since you're here, Commander Shepard is aware that I am on planet."

Zaeed sniffed. "Dunno, haven't seen him after the Collector job."

Tyco gestured with his head, and a soldier hit Zaeed again. Blood began to trickle from his brow, thankfully it was the one above his bad eye.

"Don't bother lying to us," said Tyco, his voice low and dangerous, "after we captured you, we found your friends. How many more of you are there?"

"Just your mother," Zaeed shot back. That earned him another fist to the face, but it had been worth it.

"This doesn't have to be painful bounty hunter. Just tell us what we need and we'll release you."

That was a lie if ever Zaeed had heard one. If he did tell them what they wanted, it was more likely that they'd put two in the back of his head, and then dump his body in a ditch somewhere for the rats to pick at.

Tyco could see that he wasn't even considering it. "If saving yourself from pain is not good enough, perhaps another incentive might loosen your tongue. I am authorized by my superiors to offer you a generous sum in exchange for cooperation."

"Heh," Zaeed chuckled. They were trying to buy him off. He would have liked to have been able to say that he was above bribes. But the truth was that he wasn't. "How about we define what generous means."

Tyco smiled. "100,000 credits."

Zaeed burst out laughing. "Hahaha! 100,000? Shit kid, is that the best you've got?"

Tyco wasn't smiling anymore and there was a noticeable twitch in his right eye. "Am I to understand then, that you will not be telling us what we want of your own free will?"

In response, Zaeed hacked up a globe of blood and spat it at Tyco. "Smart dog. You should ask your master for a treat."

If looks could kill, Zaeed would have died right there in that chair. Tyco made a gesture with his hand. "Bring in the droid."

 _Droid?_ What the hell? Did he mean mech?

Sure enough a mech was brought into the room. But it wasn't any kind of mech that Zaeed had ever seen. It did not walk on two legs, as many were designed to do. Instead it moved by floating, and instead of resembling a humanoid it looked more akin to some sort of robotic jellyfish. As it moved over the table towards Zaeed, he noted that its 'tentacles' held a number of sharp pointy instruments. A few were connected to glass vials filled with all sorts of colorful looking liquids.

The 'droid' came to a halt just in front of Zaeed and looked straight at him with a single large red optic.

"Last chance," warned Tyco.

Zaeed just snorted again. "Got to hell you fuck."

"Fine, begin the-"

Zaeed heard the sound of a door being opened behind him. The droid remained still. It continued to stare at him menacingly, but otherwise did nothing harmful.

"What the hell is this?!" demanded Tyco, "I gave specific instructions not to be disturbed!"

"Apologies sir," said someone Zaeed could not see, "but we've received a call from the agent. We know where they are."

A smile spread itself on Tyco's thin lips. "Excellent, prepare the men. I want six squads loaded for assault in ten minutes."

"Yes sir!" Zaeed heard the door shut close.

"What should we do with him?" asked one of the soldiers.

"Put him in the brig," ordered Tyco, grabbing his helmet from one of the other soldiers. "He might still be of use to us." Briefly Tyco regarded Zaeed. "You should have taken my offer bounty hunter."

* * *

 **The Endless Void**

Far'thog had been bartender of the _Endless Void_ over a decade. About five years ago his establishment had come under a run of bad luck. Profits had been low and Far'thog ended up accumulating a sizable debt. He had been just a month from losing everything when he'd been approached by a Salarian who had offered to pay off his debt.

Naturally he had been skeptical. Not just because of the convenience of the hand offered to him, but because he just plain didn't like Salarians. The shifty little bastards made terrible slaves, and their women were ugly.

But in the end Far'thog had taken the deal. Before he knew it, a whole group of them, all heavily armed, had carved a tunnel under his storage area. He had never personally seen where that tunnel led and he did not care. Allowing that tunnel to exist made him more money than selling drinks ever had and, more importantly, it had never caused him any trouble.

Today was different though.

It had all started with that human showing up. Since then some serious amount of traffic had been coming in and out of his bar. He'd had to give out free drinks to the whole house multiple times to ensure their silence.

As he cleaned a dirty glass with nothing more than his spit and a dirty rag, Far'thog gave some thought to maybe rethinking this deal he had with the Salarians.

Then his ears picked up the low rumble of vehicles outside the bar. It was not an uncommon sound, but from what he was able to discern there were quite a few of them. The noise came to an abrupt stop, and then he heard the sound of many bodies disembarking.

Far'thog didn't like this. His instincts which had kept him alive for years on Kuussov were telling him to run. But instead he reached for the shotgun he kept under the table.

As soon as his fingers touched the butt of his weapon the door slid open, allowing the planet's natural light to stream in. Standing in the door way was a squad of heavily armed and armored figures. Far'thog's four eyes widened as he recognized them: CAT6.

Without thinking he pulled out the shotgun and prepared to fire.

The sound of a weapon boomed inside the bar.

But for some reason none of the CAT6 commandos took cover. They just stood there, guns pointed down, the blue lenses of their helmets staring at Far'thog. Then the Batarian felt pain bloom in his chest. Wondering what it was, he looked down and saw that his shirt was stained red with blood, his blood.

The shotgun slipped from his fingers and he fell to the dirty floor.

In his last moments of life, Far'thog could only wonder one thing: who had shot him in the back?

* * *

 **STG s** **afe house**

Warning klaxons suddenly shrieked to life. Inside the tight quarters of the bunker the sounds were even more jarring than they usually would have been.

"We've got gunfire in the _Endless Void_!" shouted one of the STG analysts.

"Give me security feeds!" ordered Kirrahe. A screen popped up before the command dais. It showed a live feed of the bar where a squad of CAT6 commandos were already beginning a sweep. In the bottom left corner, Shepard noted the body of the Batarian bartender.

"Where's the audio?!" demanded Kirrahe.

"Trying to get it back sir!" said one of the analysts.

Silently the CAT6 commandos moved towards the bar while pushing past fleeing patrons. Shepard was about to ask how well hidden the secret entrance to the safe house was, when a new figure stepped out from around the bar.

It was Miranda.

"What the hell?" he asked aloud.

Shepard immediately brought up his Omni-tool to call her and ask what the hell she was thinking confronting them alone. Then he recalled that the walls of the safehouse blocked all transmissions. They needed to get out there and help her. Shepard turned to Garrus, who he could tell was thinking the same thing. A silent agreement passed between the two of them and they both moved towards the exit at the same time.

A thundering boom suddenly rocked the entirety of the safehouse, knocking everyone to the ground. For a brief moment Shepard was deaf to the shrill screeches of the alarms and all he could hear was a high pitched ringing. To his right, on her hands and knees, Roussel's lips silently shouted something at him.

Shepard shook himself as his hearing gradually returned.

"-atus report!" he heard Kirrahe order.

Bau was the first to rise to his feet. "Some sort of explosion!"

 _"Warning!"_ a synthesized voice came over the bunker intercom. _"Fires detected in Communications! Warning! A breach has been detected in sector zero!"_

"That's the front door!" realized Kirrahe.

"Come on! If CAT6 is coming in we need to make sure they've got a warm welcome!" said Shepard.

"Go!" said Kirrahe, "I'll stay here and try to get operations back online!"

The explosion had filled the entire structure with a thick fog of smoke and dust. Shepard quickly unclipped his helmet from his belt and placed it back onto his head. He was immediately grateful for the seclusion it provided from the outside world.

"I'll take point," he heard Roussel say, who was now wearing her own helmet. Not even bothering to wait for agreement, the woman stepped to the front of the group and pulled out both of her Hellfire shotguns.

Shepard chose to back her up, filling his hands with the familiar weight of his Crusader. Bau took third place in the line and Garrus silently accepted the position of rear guard. Still half shaky from the explosion, the squad of four half walked and half stumbled through the narrow halls of the bunker. Along the way they encountered the occasional shell shocked Salarian agent.

They soon came upon the Communications room, where all calls to and from the bunker were received and sent. The door was gone, replaced by a wall of thick gray smoke. Roussel gestured with her shotguns, signaling her intent to enter. Shepard gave a silent not of agreement.

With practiced fluidity the two N7 graduates entered first, their training allowed them to easily cover each other's blind spots. As it turned out, there was no need. There were no enemies inside, only a lot of burning machinery and a large black ring in the middle of the room.

Garrus kneeled down by one of the many Salarian bodies on the ground and scanned it with his Omni-tool. He looked up to Shepard and shook his head.

 _Dead_.

"We need to keep moving," said Roussel, once they were sure the room was clear.

Shepard didn't like the idea of leaving before checking the rest of the bodies, but he nodded anyway. CAT6 could be storming inside right now and if they did, there would soon be a lot more casualties. As the group continued, Shepard couldn't help but start asking questions.

"How did this happen?" he asked.

"We have a traitor," Bau responded.

Shepard wanted to look over his shoulder at the Spectre, but training kept his eyes firmly fixed forward. "You really think so?"

"There is no other way that an explosive could have made its way into the center of the Communications room."

"But who?"

"Most likely one of your crew," Bau said bluntly.

Shepard's reaction was immediate. "No way. My team is loyal, none of them would have done this."

"With all due respect Commander, look at the evidence. Until recently, the location of this safehouse was uncompromised. Yet mere hours after we show up, the enemy somehow managed to slip an explosive through heavy security into the middle of the bunker. You saw the residue of the bomb, it was in the center of the room. That means it was planted there without any of the agents inside even noticing. The bomber was likely someone whom they trusted enough not to question."

"With all due respect Bau, you don't know my team."

The group was silent after that. Internally Shepard knew that Bau's reasoning made sense. But he still didn't buy it. Not for a moment did he think that any member of his team could be a traitor. But he accepted that Bau was at least on the right track. The question was, if not a member of his own team, who else could have done it?

As they came up on the bunker's entrance Shepard pushed his thoughts away. He could think about how this happened later, he needed to focus on the here and now.

Just like with the Communications room, the main entrance to the Salarian bunker had been blown apart. The two heavily armed STG operatives that had greeted them upon their first entry lay on the ground, unmoving. A quick examination revealed that their throats had been cut. Neither one of them seemed to have fired their weapons. That leant more credence to Bau's traitor theory, but Shepard remained adamant that it was not a member of his team.

Until he saw one of them point a gun in his direction, he wouldn't even give it a thought. And even then, it wasn't like certain members of his crew hadn't tried to kill him before. Jack had once threatened to crush the whole _Normandy_ and Grunt had actually attacked him upon exiting the maturation pod.

"Clear!" announced Roussel, after sweeping her shotguns over the area.

CAT6 had not yet arrived.

"Major Kirrahe, this is Shepard. Can you hear me?"

 _"I read you Commander,"_ said Kirrahe's voice. Even though the connection was inside the bunker, the call was still plagued with static and interruptions. _"What's the situation at the front door?"_

"No hostiles. We're in the clear for now. But I'm guessing it won't stay that way."

 _"You'd be right. We just got security feeds back for the bar. I don't know how but they found the entrance into the tunnel. You're going to have company real soon."_

"Acknowledged, we'll take care of them. You concentrate on evacuating your people."

 _"Thank you. Once we've concluded burning protocols, I'll send you coordinates for a new rendezvous."_

"Alright. Good luck Major. Shepard out."

As soon as the call disconnected, Shepard switched to his team's COM channel. "Miranda! Can you hear me? What's happening out there?"

Static was his only reply.

"All members of the _Normandy_ , this is Commander Alan Shepard. If you can hear me, please respond. The _Endless Void_ has come under attack by CAT6 forces. Can anyone hear me?" Once again, only static returned. "Fuck! Still can't get a god damn signal to the outside."

"Jack and Grunt were in the truck with Legion," remembered Garrus, "what are the chances they stayed hidden?"

"Zero," answered Shepard, "and Miranda was in the bar. We've got to get up there and help them!"

Bau and Roussel said nothing but they did not voice any dissenting opinions.

"I'll move ahead and scout for trouble," said Roussel.

Before anyone could respond, she disappeared under a stealth cloak. Shepard could no longer see her, and he could not even hear her footsteps, but he knew she was already gone. Roussel had always had top marks in stealth tactics back at the N7 academy.

"How will we know if she found trouble?" asked Garrus.

"We'll hear gunfire," answered Shepard.

* * *

Only 5 minutes passed before they heard the booming report of Roussel's twin shotguns. Soon after they came upon a squad of dead CAT6 commandos, all with gaping holes blown through their bodies. From the look of them, it appeared that they never even got a shot off.

"Not bad," commented Garrus.

"Thanks," Roussel's stealth cloak dropped, revealing her to be standing in the middle of the corpses. "I did a bit of recon up top. Two squads of CAT6, all armed with shotguns and assault rifles. They also have two auto-turrets pointed at the entrance. If we walk up there, we get torn to shreds."

"Can you sneak past and disable them?" asked Shepard.

"Course I can. I'll just need a quick distraction to take them out without getting shot myself."

Shepard nodded. "I can do that. Give me a signal when you're ready."

Roussel returned the nod and then disappeared again.

"For two people who hate each other, you seem to work well together," Bau noted.

"We're both N7s," replied Shepard, and left it at that.

Upon entering the bar's storage closet, the three stacked up against the door and waited. Only a few moments passed and they received Roussel's signal.

"I'll take point, you two provide support," ordered Shepard. Without waiting for a response, Shepard delivered a biotic kick to the door, knocking it clear off the frame with a heavy groan. As Roussel had said, two auto-turrets greeted them.

Shepard stretched out a hand and summoned a circular Barrier that easily soaked up the accelerator fire that would have shredded them. Seeing that the auto-turrets weren't getting the job done, the CAT6 soldiers formed a semi-circle around Shepard and were about to open fire, when Roussel materialized behind them.

In a single second her twin Hellfire shotguns boomed four times, killing the two combat engineers controlling the auto-turrets, and putting down another two soldiers. The survivors immediately whirled around to face her, turning their backs on Shepard and the others.

Big mistake.

Roussel disappeared again. Shepard dropped his shield, and opened fire on CAT6 with Garrus and Bau. A dozen soldiers were soon lying dead on the bar floor.

"That was easy," commented Garrus.

"Don't get cocky," reminded Shepard, "we still haven't seen Tyco. But first things first, let's check on the truck."

"FIRE!" Shepard heard someone outside shout.

The entire bar exploded beneath a storm of accelerator fire. Three shots struck Shepard in the chest and were absorbed by his barrier. He ducked behind a booth for cover. Entire shelves of alcohol burst, the wooden structure of the bar splintered, and all noise was drowned out save for the sound of bullets whizzing by his ear. Garrus and Bau dropped down behind the booth next to him. He wasn't sure where Roussel was but decided there were more immediate concerns to deal with.

CAT6 likely figured out their assault team had failed and decided to just shoot up the building along with anyone left inside of it.

"What do we do?!" Garrus shouted.

"We've got to get outside! This whole place is a god damn kill box!" Shepard replied, not sure if they heard him or not. "Let's do a line up!"

"A what?!" asked Bau.

"Just follow Garrus!" Without another word, Shepard burst out from his cover and summoned another biotic shield. Accelerator rounds ricocheted and bounced off of the shimmering circle of blue energy, Shepard gestured for the other two to join him. "Come on!"

Garrus was the first to move out and stand crouched behind Shepard, placing one talon on his friend's shoulder. Bau mimicked Vakarian, piling up behind the Turian. Together they moved in a protected line straight for the _Endless Void's_ front door. Just as he had done with the doors to the storage room, Shepard used his biotic strength to forcibly burst through the front doors.

Outside they were immediately greeted by the planet's setting sun, along with two Mako APCs and two more squads of CAT6 soldiers. The turrets on the APCs immediately swiveled towards them. Shepard dropped his shield and prepared to launch into a Charge.

"HOLD IT!" the voice cut through the air, and Shepard immediately turned towards its owner.

It was Tyco. For a moment Shepard could almost taste victory. The feeling died, however, when he saw that Tyco was holding a pistol to Miranda's head.

"Stop!" Shepard ordered, and the trio came to a halt.

Miranda was on her knees with Tyco pressing his weapon to the back of her head. Shepard felt hot anger rise in his belly, but held back from acting on it for Miranda's sake.

"Drop your weapons!" ordered Tyco. When they did not immediately comply, he shouted, "NOW!"

"Do as he says," said Shepard, dropping his shotgun.

"I'm sorry Shepard," Miranda said quietly.

"It's alright Miranda," assured Shepard as he tossed down the rest of his weapons. "It's gonna be alright."

Tyco made a gesture and two of his black armored soldiers collected the weapons, chucking them far away where they could not be reached. Shepard thought about taking one of them as a counter-hostage, but thought better of it. Tyco didn't seem like the kind of guy to care if anything happened to his own men.

"Put'em in cuffs!" CAT6 soldiers stepped forward and placed Omni-cuffs on all three of them. "Bring'em here."

Roughly, Shepard, Garrus, and Bau were shoved towards Tyco and Miranda, then pushed to their knees. Shepard silently endured the abuse, knowing that any resistance might end with his XO's death. A jab at the back of his head informed him that guns were now being pointed at him as well.

Tyco smiled smugly while he watched his men work. "Well, well, well, the great Commander Shepard is on his knees before me. The Lord Wrath will be pleased by your capture, and impressed that it was done so easily."

"Fight me fair like he did Tyco, and we'll see how easy it is," Shepard spat.

"Heh, I'm not stupid commander. I know what you can do. But unlike you, I don't have the weakness of compassion. That is why you are on your knees and I am on my feet."

Miranda snorted, as she stood up. "Yes, you're a regular strategical genius."

Fear spiked inside of Shepard. What was Miranda doing? Did she _want_ to get executed? He opened his mouth to tell her to stop, but then notice that neither CAT6 nor the black armored soldiers were turning their weapons on her. What was going on?

Tyco frowned at her. "This never would have worked without my men."

"And without my plan, your men would be nothing more than red smears on the street," Miranda shot back. "The Lord Wrath will be pleased with _both_ of us."

Shepard's heart dropped as the realization of what was happening slowly settled in. He didn't want to believe it. Even as his mind began to fit the pieces together, he fought against the truth that crawled its way forward. But even then he just could not believe it was possible. How could it be possible? After everything that they had been through? How?

"No," Shepard heard Garrus whisper. It seemed he was reaching the same realization as Shepard.

"You are the traitor, not unexpected" Bau said evenly, completely nonplussed by the revelation.

Miranda gave a snide smirk. "You need to be loyal before becoming a traitor, and I was never loyal to Commander Shepard."

"You bitch-" A soldier cracked the butt of his rifle into the back of Garrus' head, sending him to the ground, where he lay very still. Shepard checked the corner of his HUD and saw that his friend's vitals were still steady, that was a relief.

"Have you something to say as well Commander?" Miranda asked.

Shepard simply glared at her in silent seething hatred. A thin blue corona of blue fire began to flicker along his body as he felt his anger rise higher and higher.

"I wouldn't if I were you," she warned, and the soldiers turned their weapons upon Garrus. "Wouldn't want another one ending up like Jacob, would we?"

Fresh anger roared to life within Shepard. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to unleash his power. To detonate a Nova and rip them all limb from limb. To show them how he had earned his reputation on Elysium against the slavers. But his training reeled in his impulses and he reminded himself that his friends were still in danger. As much as he wanted to attack right now and demand answers from Miranda, he wanted to make sure his remaining friends survived more.

With as much self control as he could muster, Shepard forced his powers to die down. Gradually, the blue fire surrounding him went out, and the soldiers turned their weapons away from Garrus' limp form.

"Good," said Miranda, then she turned to the soldiers. "Get them in that APC and-"

The Mako that Miranda had been gesturing to suddenly exploded. Fire and shrapnel showered the entire street and sent all those standing to the ground. Having been low to the ground thanks to his captors, Shepard as able to recover quickly. He called upon his biotics and snapped his Omni-cuffs, then did the same for Bau.

"Get him to safety!" he pointed at Garrus. Bau simply nodded and did so, dragging the Turian back towards the bar.

Assured that his friend would be safe, Shepard performed a Charge into the remaining Mako. The impact sent the APC rolling on its side like a log, crushing several CAT6 soldiers, and crashing into a nearby store.

"Shoot him! Shoot him!" ordered Tyco.

The surviving CAT6 and black armored soldiers had finally shaken off the effects of the explosion, and now turned their weapons on him. Shepard channeled his power, stretched out a hand, and flexed his rage into a wide Push that sent many CAT6 flying. The black armored soldiers however, seemed to anticipate the attack, and rolled out of the way before they could be struck. Shepard threw out his hand and fired out several Warp bolts.

One struck a black armored soldier dead on, and burned right through the armor. The others dodged or took cover, again they seemed to anticipate Shepard's attack. He began to suspect that they had experience dealing with Biotics, or perhaps, dealing with powers similar to Biotics? Powers like those The Wrath possessed?

Shepard was pushed out of his contemplation as the black armored troopers finally regrouped and began to fire back. Crimson bolts of pure energy cracked through the air at him. Quickly he raised a hand and summoned a Biotic shield, just in time to catch several of the incoming bolts.

"Keep firing!" barked Tyco.

* * *

Miranda had been thrown far by the explosion. But when she finally was able to regain her senses, she was greeted to the scene of Tyco and his squad firing on Shepard, who was holding them back with a barrier. The two sides were completely focused on one another.

Seeing an opportunity, Miranda found her pistol and took aim at Shepard's exposed backside. Just as she was about to pull the trigger, something pressed itself against her temple.

"I wouldn't do that," said a voice with an accent similar to her own.

Roussel appeared from thin air, as she often did, holding one of her Hellfire shotguns to Miranda's head.

"Hm, very impressive," Miranda said calmly.

"Thanks," Roussel replied, just as evenly.

"I should have noticed that you weren't around, it won't happen again."

"There won't be a chance for 'again' Lawson. You're finished."

A single beat passed in which neither woman made a move.

Then Miranda whipped around, batting the shotgun to her head aside. Roussel let the weapon go then grabbed Miranda by the wrist and twisted, forcing the raven haired woman release her own weapon. Miranda countered by producing a knife, seemingly out of nowhere, and slicing at her opponent.

Roussel released her hold on Miranda and avoided the attack, unsheathing her kukri as she did. The flames of the Mako she had destroyed reflected off of her weapon's blade and the single blue lens of her helmet, making her look like a monster out of hell.

"Aren't you going to ask me why I did it?" asked Miranda, twirling her knife.

"I'll do that after I kick your ass pretty girl," responded Roussel.

With a growl, the SAI agent lunged forward.

* * *

 **Outskirts of Kuussov**

After having finished her quick maintenance on the _JingXi_ and with nothing else left to do, Tina decided that she would take a quick nap in the cockpit. She didn't need to worry about thieves or anything, the marines keeping guard outside would make sure no locals with sticky fingers would try their luck.

Comfortable in the knowledge that she was safe, Tina propped her seat back and closed her eyes.

Almost immediately, she heard a sharp crack from outside. Her eyes snapped open. That had sounded like gunfire, but not like any kind of gun fire that she had ever heard before. No, it sounded more akin to the activation of a ship's GARDIAN laser when it ionized air inside of a planet's atmosphere. But if a ship had fired its GARDIAN laser, it would have been a lot louder.

Tina heard more of the same sound, followed by the familiar sound of accelerator fire from a standard issue Avenger rifle. Then she heard screams, human screams. Then the sound of footsteps coming up the boarding ramp.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins and she pulled out her sidearm from its holster.

Taking cover in the doorway of the cockpit, Tina trained her sights on the ship's boarding airlock.

"Blue!" she challenged. If the person coming up was friendly, they would return her challenge with 'Texas'. When no response came, she had her answer. Tina flipped the safety of her pistol off.

A blur of black combat rolled into the ship. Tina fired her weapon twice, having been taught to hold a weapon since she was 6 years old on the farm, her shots were dead accurate. But the rounds just bounced off of the black armored invader.

The intruder raised a strange boxy looking rifle.

The last thing Tina saw was a brilliant blue ring erupting from the weapon.

* * *

 **Outside the _Endless Void_**

It had been 90 seconds of the most fast paced combat Roussel had ever been a part of.

Roussel snarled as she lunged forward again, taking a swipe with her kukri. Miranda shifted back just out of reach. When Roussel attacked again with a downward's chop, her opponent dodged, then stepped inside of her guard to slip the blade between Roussel's ribs.

But Roussel was prepared, and wearing armor. She used her forearm to deflect the stab and retaliated with a stab of her own, aimed at Miranda's eyes. Unfortunately the raven haired woman possessed incredible reflexes, and threw herself back at the last moment.

Miranda then drew her hand back. Roussel assumed it was to do some Biotic attack, and prepared to execute a combat roll. Instead a fistful of dirt, scooped up at some point during the duel, was tossed at her. It caught Roussel off guard, just long enough for Miranda to slide past her guard and score a strike.

Roussel saw it at the last moment, and instead of slicing through her brain, the blade skated off of the face plate of her helmet, leaving a thin scar on the material. The SAI agent growled in frustration.

Nothing about her duel with Miranda had gone as expected.

For one, not once had the traitor made use of her impressive biotic powers. If she had wanted, Miranda could have used a Push to knock Roussel to the ground, or a Lift to make her float helplessly in the air, either would have left Roussel open to a killing strike. But instead the duel so far had been a purely martial contest.

Second was the knife that Miranda used. At a glance it had seemed like nothing more than a ordinary knife. Roussel first noticed how peculiar it was when it had nearly sliced off her ear. The weapon seemed to...hum as it passed through the air. Whatever made the knife special also gave it incredibly cutting power. The thin cut on her face plate was just the latest of new scars her armor was adorned with, which was supposed to be able to hold up to accelerator fire.

"What's the matter Laura?" Miranda taunted, "where's that bad bitch attitude that you're always flaunting?"

Roussel did not respond. Instead, she crouched down and picked up her Hellfire shotgun, which she had been inching towards the whole fight.

Miranda dove behind the cover of the flaming Mako wreck just as Roussel squeezed off two shots. With her shotgun in one hand and her kukri in the other, Roussel pursued. Just as she rounded the corner of the Mako, Miranda struck. Her knife sliced into the shotgun and pinned it to the APC's metal carcass.

Roussel didn't miss a beat. She released her destroyed shotgun and sliced at Miranda's wrist. Miranda moved back just in time but at the cost of letting her knife go. The momentum of the SAI agent's attack continued as she stepped forward and slammed her faceplate into Miranda's nose. She felt the satisfying crunch of something break, and immediately followed up with a solid kick to the gut.

Miranda went tumbling backwards, but as she did something flashed out of her palm. Instinctively Roussel tried to move out of the way, but was too late. Something struck her in the collar, right between the plates of her armor. Roussel pulled it out and held it up to her eye.

A dart.

Roussel's vision began to go hazy, and she immediately knew what kind of dart it was.

"Fuck me," she cursed.

Miranda stood up. Even with her impaired vision, she could see the smug smile on the pretty woman's perfect lips. At least Roussel had dulled that prettiness with her headbutt, which had no doubt...not broken her nose? What the hell? Roussel blinked a few times, but no matter how many times she did, Miranda's face remained as perfect and unblemished as it had been at the start of the day.

But that was impossible. That headbutt should have shattered the woman's perfect face.

"Not bad," said Miranda as she pulled out another knife, seemingly from thin air. "Now it's my turn."

"LOOK OUT!"

* * *

 **90 seconds ago...**

Shepard exploded out from a streak of blue fire to deliver his fist into the chest of a black armored soldier, sending the man flying back 9 meters. The remaining soldiers surrounded him. Shepard threw out his hands, detonating his personal barrier into a Nova that scattered them. Tyco, who had stayed back, was the only one left on his feet.

"Die primitive!" He fired a volley of lasers at Shepard's back, only to be foiled when the Commander teleported a step to the side.

Shepard whipped around to face Tyco with almost palpable hate. Here was his target, the man he had been searching for, the man who would lead him to the true source of his anger: The Wrath. Tyco stood just a few meters away, he was so close. Shepard swore silently to Jacob that he would not fail.

Calling upon his biotics, Shepard thrust out his hand and made a grabbing movement. Tyco was enveloped in aura the same blue as the one that surrounded the Commander, and hoisted up into the air. He squirmed against his invisible restraints, but to no avail.

"Tell me where he is!" demanded Shepard.

"Never!"

Shepard clenched his hand closer to a fist and the pressure on Tyco increased.

"Where is he!?" Tyco's black armor began to crack.

"G-go on..." Tyco gasped in pain. "Do it!"

Shepard wanted nothing more than to squeeze the life out of Tyco, to watch the man pop like an overripe fruit. But he held back. He couldn't kill Tyco, not yet at least. He needed Tyco to tell him more, to explain to him what the hell was going on. It was then that Shepard heard something else.

Was that...a ship engine?

He turned his gaze skyward, and to his surprise he saw the familiar form of the _JingXi_ hovering down towards them. Shepard smiled, he didn't know how, but Samara must have figured out that Miranda was a traitor. With the _JingX_ _i_ providing them air support, their victory was practically assured.

Then he heard the unmistakable sound of the _JingXi's_ GARDIAN lasers power up, and Shepard lost his smile. In a snap decision, between living and holding on to Tyco, Shepard released his hold and teleported away just in time. A beam of red energy sliced down from the _JingXi_ and carved a deep trench into the spot where he had just been standing.

He saw the _JingXi_ turn towards Roussel.

"LOOK OUT!" he shouted.

Shepard sprinted into a Charge, teleporting to tackle Roussel to the ground. A moment later the _JingXi's_ GARDIAN lasers swept overhead, scorching the air above.

"We gotta move!"

"Can't...losing feeling...in legs," Roussel strained out.

"What?!"

"Poison."

Well that was just perfect. Knowing that another beam of energy was imminent, Shepard grabbed Roussel and teleported the both of them through a window, back into _The Endless Void_. Bau was inside, protecting a still unconscious Garrus.

"What happened?!" asked Bau.

"Grab Garrus!" ordered Shepard as he dragged Roussel back towards the bar's storage area.

* * *

"Damn it," Miranda cursed as she picked herself up, "I had her."

"We still have them outnumbered," noted Tyco as one of his men helped him stand up. "And we have their ship. They've nowhere to escape to. I say we-"

"Of course they have somewhere to escape to," Miranda pointed out. "That's an STG safehouse after all, a Salarian always has a back door." She opened a communication channel to the ship. "Fire on the bar! Raze the building to the ground!"

Tyco grabbed Miranda by the wrist, his face contorted with anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! The Lord Wrath wants them alive!"

"The Lord Wrath will understand!"

Before argument could continue any further, the _JingXi_ fired all of its weapons. The metal structures of the _Endless Void_ were no match for the military grade accelerator cannons and GARDIAN lasers. There was a loud crack, like the snapping of bone, and the building collapsed in on itself.

Anyone that had been inside, was either dead or buried.

* * *

"I think they're gone," said Shepard.

The tunnel drenched them in complete darkness. When the STG cell had evacuated their safehouse they had also scrapped the generators. Thankfully Shepard's helmet featured night vision, and so through a sickly green filter he saw Bau nod his head in agreement.

"The bar is more than likely destroyed. The entrance is now buried under at least half a ton of rubble" surmised Bau, "we should-"

Shepard stretched out his hand and blasted the rubble covering the tunnel entrance with a Biotic Push. Bau's words were drowned out under the ensuing noise. Dim but natural light streamed into the tunnel. Shepard cautiously poked his head out of the opening he had created.

A full second passed where nothing happened. "Looks like its clear."

Without waiting for Bau to respond, Shepard stepped outside. The Salarian Spectre simply shook his head at the actions of his colleague. "Why does no one ever listen to me?"

Making sure his pistol was in working condition, Bau moved to join Shepard. As the Comander had stated, the surrounding area was indeed clear of hostiles. Quite a few scavenging teams had already come to pick at the building's fresh carcass, but there were no signs of CAT6 or Tyco's men. Shepard ignored looters and scanned the surrounding area.

"The truck is gone," he noted. Another thing to add to the growing list of things he'd lost.

"And your companions along with it," added Bau.

Shepard nodded, there was no point in denying the truth. Though he maintained a facade of calm, internally he was still reeling from the revelation of Miranda turning traitor. How did this happen? Had she forgotten what he had done for her, with Oriana? Had she forgotten how they had survived the Collector base? Had she always been loyal to The Wrath's secretive organization? Had she ever been loyal to the Illusive Man?

Too many questions, and not enough answers.

He mentally shook himself. This was no time for moody contemplation. Garrus was unconscious but relatively uninjured. Roussel on the other hand had somehow gotten poisoned. Likely it had something to do with Miranda. That was another thing that didn't fit. Shepard had never known Miranda to use poison. Though he admitted it didn't seem like something that she would be above.

"We need to rendezvous with Kirrahe and his STG cell," said Shepard. His voice surprisingly somber, even to himself.

"I agree, we must regroup, and with your team down we will need the Major's help more than ever." Shepard found Bau's tone almost annoyingly calm for what had just happened.

"Aren't you going to say it?" asked Shepard.

Bau looked at him and blinked. "Say what?"

"That you told me so. I didn't want to believe that the traitor was from my team, but as it turned out it was." Shepard clenched his hand into a fist. "I was so blind. I couldn't even think that it was possible."

Bau was silent for a beat. "Boasting about the correctness of my earlier statements would serve no purpose. Our time would be much better spent on more useful actions. Besides, as a junior member of the Spectres, you are allowed to make a few mistakes."

Shepard cocked a brow at the Salarian. "Junior?"

"Not counting the amount of time you spent dead, you have still been a Spectre for under a year."

"Heh, I guess that's true." He had never really thought about it.

"Come," Bau gestured, "let us try to wake Mr. Vakarian. I would prefer not to carry him, he looks heavy."

* * *

 **CAT6 Base - Stockade**

After Tyco had run out on the interrogation, Zaeed had been unceremoniously thrown into a cell. As far as cells went, Zaeed had been in much worse. There was no bed for him to rest on and no window for fresh air. But at least the floor was clean, and there was an actual toilet instead of a bucket full of shit.

Zaeed spent most of his time nursing the ache on the back of his head and observing the guard rotations. A new soldier came in to serve as warden every 2 hours. Each one was professional to the bone. Never talked to the prisoner, him, unless to tell him to shut up. Never took off their helmets either, so Zaeed could never tell what the hell they were thinking or looking at.

Busting out was going to be hard.

Zaeed had just about given up for the day, when he heard a bunch of commotion coming from down the same hall they'd dragged him in. The guard on duty stood at attention as a squad of his fellow CAT6 came stomping into view.

"We've got two more," said one of the new comers.

"Step away from the bars prisoner!" Zaeed's guard ordered. He did as he was told, resisting would just get him a beating.

A loud electronic alarm sounded as the bars slid open. Two more guards, hauling a massive teenage Krogan in between them, entered the cell and promptly tossed said Krogan at Zaeed's feet.

"Grunt!"

"Stay back if you want to keep your head prisoner!" Zaeed reluctantly did so. Outside of his cell he could hear the bars of a different cell being opened.

"Throw this one in here," he heard someone say. So someone else had also been captured.

The guards soon left, leaving Zaeed in a cell with an unconscious Krogan.

"Just bloody great," he grumbled and kicked Grunt in the gut. "Oi! Wake up you big dumb lizard."

Even though their captors had stripped the armor off of the Krogan, it still felt like Zaeed was kicking a solid wall of bricks. After a few more, Grunt finally started to awaken.

"W-what? What's going on?" he asked groggily.

"You got captured kid," Zaeed answered.

"Captured? Me?" Grunt sat up. "But, that's impossible! I don't even remember a fight!"

"What a coincidence, neither do I."

Grunt tried to stand, but found his footing wobbly, so Zaeed was forced to help him. "Where are we?"

"Probably the CAT6 base. No windows around, so no way for us to see."

"Hey!" their guard barked, "quiet in there! No talking!"

Grunt snarled. "You think you are safe behind these flimsy barriers?! They cannot hold me!"

Zaeed realized what was about to happen. "Grunt, don't-"

"I AM KROGAN!" As predicted, Grunt rushed head first into the bars, and promptly bounced off of them.

"Ha! Dumb dinosaur! Those bars and the walls surrounding you are made of starship grade alloy. You'd have better luck getting an Asari to keep her legs closed."

"FUCKERS!" screeched a familiar voice, which was followed by a familiar catchphrase. "I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL!"

Zaeed expected the building to shake, but to his surprise nothing followed. He sighed, of course they'd removed the crazy bitch's amp.

"Keep it down! All of you!" ordered the guard.

"Fuck you-"

"Just do as he says you stupid bloody girl," growled Zaeed.

"Old man? Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me. Now shut the hell up. It's bad enough I gotta bunk with the dino. I don't need your bloody screams keeping me up at night."

"Fuck you old man! Just because you wanna bend over for these fuckers doesn't mean-"

The guard fired his weapon into Jack's cell.

"JACK!" Zaeed grabbed the bars of his cell.

"That was a warning shot," the guard said coldly. "Any of you say anything more, and I won't hesitate to kill you. Understoood?"

They all glared at the guard, but none of them said anything.

"Good."

A scowl still on his wrinkled features, Zaeed walked to the back of his cell and sat down. Grunt sat down next to him, looking equally put out and angry. As much as he hated to admit it, they were stuck here at the mercy of their guard for now. Until their fortune changed, their best move was to do as they were told.

 _Come on Shepard, where are you?_

* * *

The secondary STG safe house was located in the back of a Turian owned fast food restaurant. Not the most original of places, Shepard had thought, but just like the first it had been remarkably well hidden. To his relief, this one was not as security heavy as the first and he was able to contact Samara without the need to patch into a relay.

As it had turned out, Samara had traveled to the coordinates given to her by Miranda and found four squads of CAT6 soldiers waiting for her. Those soldiers were now dead of course. In the basement, amidst boxes of artificial protein, vegetable paste, and high fat cooking oil, Shepard spoke to Samara through his Omni-tool.

"I know you don't want to. But I think you should come into the city," said Shepard. "With how things are going, I'd prefer everyone be together."

 _"I agree,"_ said Samara. Shepard wanted to ask if she would be alright being surrounded by so much criminal activity, but at this point he almost wished she would go on a justice-spree.

"Kirrahe is sending some people to pick you up."

 _"Then I shall see you soon Commander. Goddess light your way."_

"And you," Shepard returned. The call ended, and Shepard finally felt the exhaustion of the last 8 hours sink in. So much had happened, he was still processing most of it.

"Well this has been a crap day" said Garrus, sitting nearby on a thin metal chair.

"It sure has," said Shepard, settling into a free chair next to him.

"Here," Garrus handed Shepard a Heart Attack Hero burger (non-dextro), a special of the restaurant. "Figured you might be hungry."

Shepard was. He hadn't eaten since this morning, except for a few tasteless high nutrient bars. The constant activity combined with the use of his Biotics had been a big drain on his reserves. It wasn't until they'd gotten to the restaurant and he'd inhaled the smell of food that he'd realized that he was starving.

He unwrapped the burger. It looked unappetizing, and evidence that the meat and vegetables weren't real surrounded him, but he could not stop himself from swallowing every bite. Hunger did wonders for taste.

"Thanks," he said through a mouthful of food. "You feeling alright? That looked like a pretty bad crack on the head."

"I'm fine. I got a thick skull," Garrus tapped on his own head form emphasis.

"Heh, no surprise there," Shepard chuckled. For sometime, the two friends sat silently in the basement. The only noise between them came from the sound of Shepard's chewing. Finally Garrus broke the silence.

"Do you think the others are alright?" he asked.

Shepard swallowed the last of his burger, and hesitated before replying. "I don't know. We didn't see any bodies. They were probably captured like Zaeed."

"Yeah, yeah that makes sense," nodded Garrus, as though trying to convince himself.

"Or maybe, they were tortured for information, shot in the head, and left in a ditch somewhere," said Roussel as she approached. Nosily she dragged a chair over and sat down next to them.

"Ah, I see you're back to your normal self. That's very unfortunate," said Shepard.

Roussel rubbed her collarbone, where the dart had struck her. "Ha-ha, very funny. There was just enough of the toxin in the dart to make someone pass out, but not enough to kill. It was a stunner."

From a pouch on her belt, she produced the dart.

"Doesn't look like any I've ever seen," noted Garrus. Since Mordin had often utilized neural darts from his Omni-tool, the entire _Normandy_ team was somewhat familiar with them. But those were flash-forged projectiles. This one was a small, gleaming, silver, and looked as though a lot of work had been put into its manufacturing.

"Funny you should say that. I had a few of Kirrahe's nerds run it through their scanners. It doesn't match any thing in their database. This little bugger is, for lack of a better term, not of this world. Or any other world." Roussel turned it between her fingers admiringly. She could appreciate a good weapon, even if it had been used to nearly kill her.

"You said Miranda fired this one?" asked Shepard, skeptically.

"That's right."

He pressed his lips together. "That just doesn't sound right. In all the time we've known her, we've never once seen her use darts of any kind."

"Spook rules 101: Never let anyone know every trick in your book," said Roussel as she pocketed the dart. Then added, "not even your allies."

"Miranda does love her secrets," agreed Shepard. "But I still just can't believe the idea that we never really knew her."

Roussel leaned forward. "Get it through your head Shep. The Miranda you got to know, the one you trusted, was the Miranda that she wanted you to trust. What did she use? The Ice Queen act? Oldest one in the book. Act distant and aloof, but drop hints that lead others to believe there's more. Then bit by bit, get them to think that they've melted you."

Shepard winced. That pretty much described how things had played out between Miranda and himself, and most of the crew. But even when she had kept her most personal details to herself, there had always been a feeling of trust, real trust. Shepard didn't care how logical Roussel's words sounded. Roussel didn't know Miranda.

But his memory had not deceived him. Miranda had really betrayed them to Tyco and his secret organization, whoever they were.

What could have made one of his closest friends turn like that?

* * *

 **CAT6 Base - Captain's Office**

Tyco was furious. "You stupid barvy-"

"That's no way to talk to a lady," Miranda interrupted, her full lips curled into a mocking sneer.

"You're no lady anymore than I am a mercenary!" Tyco shot back, as he paced violently back and forth across his office. "The Emperor and The Lord Wrath were very explicit! He did not want the Commander dead! We just disobeyed an order from the supreme authority himself!"

"No, we didn't," Miranda countered calmly.

"What are you talking about?! We just blasted them to pieces!" Even as Tyco said the words, a realization dawned upon him, and he grinned. "No, I didn't disobey. You did!"

Miranda remained unfazed, and simply crossed her arms.

"You're the one who ordered the ship to fire on the bar. You're the one whose going to go down for this!" Tyco's grin grew wider with every word. "I hope you've had a full life, because when the Lord Wrath hears about this, he's going to-"

In a single blink, Miranda was across the room. Tyco's collar was balled up in one hand and with the other she pressed the deadly edge of a vibroknife to his throat.

"One: don't ever threaten me. Two: don't try to be smart, it doesn't suit you. Three: Lord Wrath doesn't need to hear anything. Not yet at least. Understood?"

"Go-"

Miranda pressed the knife harder against Tyco's throat, causing a single drop of blood to trickle down the blade. "Understood?"

Tyco silently, and reluctantly, nodded. Satisfied that she had the Captain's cooperation, Miranda pulled the knife away.

"Good dog. Now, listen carefully. This is what we're going to do."

* * *

"Indoctrination!" Shepard stood suddenly, almost knocking his chair over in the process.

Roussel sighed. "What are you on about now poster boy?"

Shepard ignored her and turned to Garrus. "It could be indoctrination right? We've been thinking that Tyco and whatever organization he's with might be working with the Reapers. Maybe they have some sort of technology that allows them to quickly indoctrinate somebody."

Garrus scratched his chin plate thoughtfully. "They do have laser guns, so I don't think that it's an impossibility."

Roussel raised her hand. "Uh, the woman is confused. Indoctrination, that's that thing your Reapers do right? Some sort of Lovecraft style mind control?"

Now Garrus was confused. "Lovecraft?"

"Human author," Shepard explained, then turned to Roussel, "and yeah, that about sums it up. You were right before Laura."

"I was?" her eye widened in surprise. Shepard was just as surprised to hear himself say it.

"You were suspicious of how Miranda managed to get away after she and Zaeed were attacked," he recounted. "At the time I thought you were just being your usual bitchy self. But now that I think about it, that might have been the time when they could have pulled some sort of quick indoctrination. Right?"

Shepard looked to his companions to give him support, and found none. Roussel looked skeptical, which was expected. But Garrus seemed almost sympathetic, like he was watching a child struggle to understand a concept too big for their mind.

"Shepard," the Turian began, "I'm not saying that it's impossible, but..."

"You're fooling yourself," Roussel finished. "Not everything that goes wrong in the galaxy has to do with mystical space squids."

Shepard pressed his lips together in rage. "Oh come on! These people have weapons we've never seen before! We fought a man who took on our team with laser swords and could shoot lightning from his fingers! We don't know what other weird shit they might have!"

Roussel looked to Garrus, who simply nodded confirmation. "Yeah, lightning."

"Okay, fine, yes. I admit that these guys, whoever they are, have some fairly impressive tech. Stuff that shouldn't even exist yet. Maybe you're right, maybe they did brainwash your cheerleader into switching sides. But you're not doing yourself any favors by thinking that her just being a traitor isn't a possibility."

"You didn't know her like we did. Right Garrus?"

Garrus was silent, and Shepard felt his anger go cold. "Garrus?"

His friend sighed before staring Shepard right in the eye. "Shepard, you know that while I was on Omega as Archangel, I had a team. And just like this one, I thought I could trust them with my life. But you also know what eventually happened to them."

Shepard nodded bitterly. "Yeah, you were betrayed."

"I didn't want to believe it at first," Garrus continued. "I tried to rationalize it every day afterwards. I thought: maybe they're just trying to get to me. Maybe Sidonis has some sort of plan. Maybe it's just a Turian that looks like Sidonis. I didn't really accept that my friend had become a traitor until I was looking down my scope at him. Until I heard him say it in his own words."

Shepard was silent for a beat, then asked, "what are you trying to say?"

Garrus stood up and placed a comforting talon on Shepard's shoulder. "I'm saying that I know what you're going through. Maybe you're right, maybe Miranda is being brainwashed, or controlled, or something else. But there's a chance that Roussel is right. It's possible that Miranda was never loyal to us. If that's the truth, then you can't try to blind yourself to it."

"I'm not trying to blind myself," said Shepard, he sank down into his chair. It felt like his strength had been sapped out of him. "I just..." he struggled to find the right word. "I just trust Miranda. Just like I trust you, and everyone else on my team. I trusted all of you to defeat the Collectors. I can't just stop trusting now."

A solemn silence settled over the room. Even Roussel seemed affected by it, as she stared at the floor with her arms crossed. Shepard realized, that perhaps the reason she was being so adamant that Miranda was a traitor, was that perhaps she had gone through the same thing that Garrus had. Maybe some time ago, she had been betrayed, and her world may have been colored ever since.

He didn't know the details of the Alliance's Black Ops, and maybe he didn't want to. Being in the SAI had changed her. She had been much the same as she was now when Shepard had first met her in the N7 academy. But back then her arrogance and cynicisim had always had a sense of goodness behind them. Shepard remembered a Roussel who had wanted to use her skills serve, to do good for the Alliance that she loved.

By the time they had reunited on Torfan, that had changed. She no longer served to save what she loved, she fought to kill what she hated. Shepard knew that he had never really gotten along with Roussel, but it was only on Torfan that their rivalry had turned into full blown dislike for one another.

What had happened to her?

A chirp from his Omni-tool interrupted Shepard's thoughts. He brought it up, thinking that it was Samara calling to report that she had been picked up. It wasn't.

"It's her, isn't it?" asked Garrus.

Shepard nodded.

"Answer it," said Roussel, "this is a good chance to gather intel."

Shepard had already planned on doing so, but was glad to know he wouldn't face opposition for the decision. He accepted the transmission, and waited silently for her to speak the first word.

 _"Are you there Commander?"_ asked Miranda.

Shepard forced down the urge to shout. "I'm here," he said evenly.

 _"Good, I'm glad you aren't being childish about my decision to switch to the winning side. I know how immature you can be."_

He nearly lost control of himself then and there, but reminded himself not to give in. "What do you want Miranda?"

Though he couldn't see it, he got the distinct impression that Miranda was smiling. _"Listen carefully Commander. Do exactly as I say, and your team will live to see another day."_

* * *

 **3 hours later...**

"I've got a bad feeling about this," said Garrus.

"Yeah, me too," agreed Shepard, beside them Roussel and Samara stood in stoic silence. Shepard had wanted to say something uplifting and witty. But as he stared at the tall metal gates of the CAT6 compound, it was hard to be either. With an earsplitting creak and groan, the gate began to slide open.

"You still sure you want to do this?" asked Garrus.

"They have our friends. We don't have any other choice," Shepard replied.

"We are with you Commander, no matter what happens we will not abandon you or the others" Samara said. The resolute steel in her voice was reassuring. He gave her a thankful smile and nod.

Miranda's offer had been simple, almost cliché: Shepard would surrender himself to them, in exchange they would release all the hostages. Shepard put the safety of his team above all else, and so naturally he had agreed to the terms. Night had fallen since then, and as the gates opened fully, Shepard could see that the compound was lit by a series of high powered flood lights.

Standing on the other side of the gate was Tyco and Miranda, both looking fairly pleased with themselves. In between them was his team, all of whom had been forced to their knees and had at least one of Tyco's black armored men pointing a laser rifle to their back. Despite the situation, Shepard felt relief flood him. They were alive.

But Legion, the _JingXi_ pilot, and Roussel's marines were nowhere to be seen.

"Where the hell is Legion and the others?!" he demanded.

"Your droid and the others are fine," Tyco replied. "We'll release them once we're sure that those sniper's you've got on us won't shoot."

As if on cue, six red targeting dots appeared on Tyco and Miranda, dancing threateningly across their chests and faces. Shepard quietly cursed, he didn't think they would notice Kirrahe's team so soon. Or perhaps Miranda had simply anticipated it, she must have known he wouldn't come without some insurance of his own.

"How do I know you'll release them once you've got me?" asked Shepard.

"You don't," Miranda replied this time, "but you don't have any other choice."

On cue, the laser rifles being pointed at his team emitted a high pitched whine. Shepard didn't know much about the foreign rifles, but he recognized the sound of weapon being powered up. The message was clear: _we can kill your friends whenever we want_.

"Fine," he called back, his voice heavy with defeat, "we'll do it you're way."

Miranda nodded, satisfied.

"Step forward slowly!" she ordered.

"We still have a chance to go with Plan B," whispered Garru. Both he and Roussel had silently crept their hands towards their weapons, while Samara had slowly spread her feet towards a fighting stance.

"No. This is the best shot we have," Shepard replied, giving all of them a look. "Just be ready for the signal."

As requested, Shepard began to move through the gate and into the compound. Once he had taken a few steps, Miranda gestured to for Tyco's men to release Shepard's team. One by one they were roughly hauled to their feet.

"Get moving," one of the soldiers ordered.

"Should have known a Cerberus bitch like you would turn fucking traitor cheerleader," Jack spat over her shoulder at Miranda. A high pitched crack cut through the silent night air as her guard fired his weapon at her feet. The bald woman visibly recoiled as the bolt of pure energy burned the dirt near her right foot.

"No talking!" Jack looked like she wanted to say more, but eventually fell into step with Zaeed and Grunt.

Shepard had fought to control himself during the whole exchange. Every cell in his body was urging him to rush forward and throw up a protective bubble around his team. But there were too many CAT6 soldiers around for his Barrier to hold out any longer than a few seconds. A quick look at his surroundings vanquished any further inclination towards that plan.

Tyco and Miranda had prepared for this exchange well. Shepard counted at least three dozen CAT6 soldiers on the ground, protectively flanking the duo. He also spotted sniper teams in the guard towers, on the walls, and above the gate. One wrong move would result in him and his team looking like Swiss cheese.

 _Stick_ _to the plan,_ he reminded himself.

"Are you alright?" Shepard asked when he finally met with his captured friends midway.

Zaeed gave a silent nod. Jack looked pissed, but also nodded. Grunt kept his eyes on the ground, like a kid caught doing something he'd been told not to. No doubt he viewed his capture as a great shame.

"Keep going!" ordered Tyco.

Stiffly, Shepard continued walking till he was standing just two meters from Miranda and Tyco.

"On your knees."

Shepard obeyed Tyco's command. One of the black armored soldiers moved behind him and bound his wrists in binders.

"Just so you know, the minute you try to use your biotics, those binders will deliver a nasty shock that'll make you soil your pants," Tyco spoke like a man who had already won.

"How nice."

"We wouldn't want you to get any ideas on backing out on our deal, now would we?"

"No, I guess not. You've got me. Now hold up your end and release the others."

"Patience Commander. First we make sure your friends don't get any ideas." Miranda turned to one of the soldiers. "Close the gate."

Shepard chanced a look over his shoulder as the compound gate slowly slide close. He was relieved to catch a glimpse of Zaeed, Jack, and Grunt safe on the other side. When he turned back, he found the barrel of Tyco's laser pistol inches from his face.

"The smart thing would be to execute you now," said Tyco. Shepard didn't even blink, he stared right down the weapon and into Tyco's eyes. To the Commander's immense satisfaction, he saw a flicker of unease. "But the Emperor doesn't want you killed unceremoniously, and I obey the commands of my Emperor."

Shepard's face scrunched with confusion. Emperor? The only emperor that he knew about was the emperor of Japan. Miranda gave Tyco an annoyed look.

"Enough gloating. He doesn't need to know anymore," she said.

Tyco chuckled confidently. "It's over, we've won."

"Not yet we haven't."

"His friends won't try anything. They know that if they do, we'll execute the other prisoners. Stop being paranoid and enjoy-"

An explosion in the middle of the compound cut off the rest of Tyco's sentence. A second explosion destroyed a nearby barracks, and a third explosion took out the building next to it. Tyco immediately began shouting orders for his men to investigate, then whipped around to face Shepard again.

"You and your team must be monumental morons. I hope you enjoy having corpses on your conscious."

Shepard smiled, and pointed with his chin. "You mean those corpses?"

Alliance marines, stripped of their armor and carrying stolen weapons burst out from the compound's stockade. Fueled with fury from being held captive and with the element of surprise on their side, the marines gunned down every CAT6 soldier they saw. Leading them was a figure clad in black armor, wielding a shotgun in one hand and a kukri in the other.

* * *

 **On the other side of the gate...**

The hologram of Roussel that had been standing next to Garrus and Samara finally fizzled out of existence. Just in time, Garrus thought, he hadn't been sure how long the battery on the projector would last. If it had died during the exchange, Roussel's cover would have been blown.

A moment later they heard the sound of explosions and gunfire.

The CAT6 soldiers atop the gate briefly turned away from the group below them. That turned out to be a fatal mistake, as the STG sniper teams promptly gunned them down.

"That's the signal," said Garrus. He handed a spare pistol to Zaeed while Samara provided a pair of shotguns to Jack and Grunt. "Are you all good to fight?"

"Me and Grunt are always good for a scrap," Zaeed replied as he gave the pistol a quick check, "but Jack had her amp fried."

"I'm fine," Jack protested vehemently.

"Stay close to the others," ordered Garrus.

"I said I'm-"

"This is not up for discussion," Garrus' tone left no room for argument. Jack looked resentful, but she said nothing, which was as good as could be hoped for. "Samara, care to open the door?"

"It would be my pleasure." Samara's shapely form became surrounded in a fiery blue aura and her eyes began to shine white like a pair of distant stars. She cast out both hands and unleashed the largest Warp Garrus had ever seen. The gate stood no chance and was blasted apart like it was made from nothing more than tissue paper.

Samara barely paused to catch her breath before leaping through the breach.

"Fucking'ell I love watching her work," Zaeed smiled.

"Let's go!" Garrus led the charge inside, and the others followed.

* * *

Roussel's surprise attack and the revelation that their prisoners were no longer prisoners had taken the attention off of Shepard. Seizing the chance, he caught the distracted Tyco with his cuffs, using them as an improvised garrote. The man had foolishly turned his back on Shepard, and was now paying for it.

"H-h-help!" Tyco managed to weakly choke out, but it was lost amidst the deafening sounds of fighting.

Miranda noticed however. Her Omni-tool flashed and the promised pants soiling voltage Shepard began to course through his body. As he screamed in pain, Tyco managed slip away.

"Kill him!"

Several of the black armored soldiers turned their weapons upon the defenseless Shepard. Then the gate was torn apart, and Samara leaped into the compound. With a mere gesture she cast a Biotic Push that scattered Tyco and his men like leaves in the wind. Six CAT6 soldiers fired on her, full-auto, with their assault rifles. Their rounds bounced uselessly off of the Justicar's Barrier. With an almost casual ease Samara dispatched them all with a single Warp.

Garrus and the others entered soon after. The Turian immediately went to work sniping, pulling off headshot after headshot on the soldiers up in the towers and walls. Grunt, eager to redeem himself after his shameful capture, charged head first while announcing himself with a bellow. Many CAT6 soldiers immediately focused on the Krogan only to be picked off with their guard down by Jack or Zaeed.

"Go! Back to the Command Center!" ordered Miranda, as she and Tyco beat a hasty retreat.

Meanwhile, Shepard withered on the ground. His teeth chattered uncontrollably and his vision was becoming tinged blue. Samara noticed and saved him by destroying the cuffs with a swift Biotic knifehand strike, snapping them easily. Shepard breathed a sigh of relief when his body was allowed to relax.

"Commander? Are you alright?" asked Samara.

Shepard nodded. "I'm fine. Just a bit crispy."

"Get on your feet poster boy!" Roussel appeared from thin air and shot a nearby CAT6 soldier without looking. "There's lots of killing that needs being done."

"Did you get all of the prisoners?" Shepard asked.

"I found all of my marines. But the pilot and your robot weren't there. They must be holding them somewhere else."

"Fuck!" Shepard cursed. "We've got to find them!"

"Perhaps we can assist with that." Shepard turned to see Major Kirrahe, Bau, and two squads of Salarians entering through the breached gate. Kirrahe commanded the squads to assist Garrus and the marines, then knelt down next to Shepard. "We had one of our drones perform a quick thermal scan of the compound. There is a heat signature coming from the command center. It might be your pilot."

"Any sign of Legion?"

Kirrahe shook his head. "I'm afraid not. It's likely your Geth has been shut down and is therefore not emitting any detectable signatures."

"Damn, alright, one thing at a time." He got to his feet with a small struggle, and Bau handed him a Salarian made pistol. Shepard nodded a thanks. He had come without weapons and armor, to better sell the idea that he was surrendering. "You all secure the compound. Roussel and I will find Tina and Legion."

"Very well, may the Goddess be with you Commander," said Samara, before she went to rejoin the battle.

"Good luck," added Kirrahe, and then he and Bau did the same.

* * *

With all the chaos that was happening inside the compound, Shepard and Roussel barely had to do anything to reach the command center. While Shepard used his Biotics to tear open the door, Roussel finished cleaning her kukri on a dead soldier's body whose throat she had slashed open.

"I'll take point," she moved in without waiting for Shepard's agreement. But given that she wore armor and he was clad in little more than his Alliace fatigues, Shepard found it a smart idea.

They met no resistance on the first floor. Once they were sure it was clear the two swept up a set of stairs and moved to a door. Roussel paused in front of it abruptly, causing Shepard to nearly bump into her backside.

"What is it?"

"Thermals show six contacts on the other side," she explained. An unspoken agreement passed between the two Humans and they both took positions on either side of the door. "On your go."

Shepard was surprised but did not argue. He nodded his agreement and held up 3 fingers.

3...

2...

1...

Shepard opened the door and Roussel immediately tossed in two disks. "Flash out!"

A beat later, two brilliant flashes of light briefly flooded the room. Cries of anguish followed. Together Shepard and Roussel moved in with practiced motions, both instinctively covering the other.

First kill went to Roussel. A CAT6 soldier had stumbled blindly towards to the entrance and Roussel took only a moment to stab her kukri through his visor and into the eye. She held the knife inside the man's head, even as she fired her Hellfire twice, taking out two more soldiers. Shepard made a sweeping motion with his hand, crushing three soldiers against the wall. Then triple tapped the last one with his borrowed pistol.

"Clear!" announced Roussel, finally pulling her knife out of her victim's eye socket. The body crumpled the ground a moment later.

"Clear!" Shepard said.

A scuffle of panicked motion came from behind an overturned table in the far corner of the room. Both Humans swiveled towards it, weapons raised.

"Wait! Wait! Don't shoot!" A pair of hands waved out from behind the table. "I surrender! Please! I don't want to die!"

Shepard and Roussel shared a glance.

"Come out with your hands up!" ordered Shepard. "Do it, and we won't shoot you."

"O-okay," a CAT6 soldier cautiously stood up into view.

"Where's your bosses?" demanded Roussel, through her helmet she sounded like she was growling.

"If I tell you, w-will you let me go?"

"Yes," Shepard said immediately, "you have my word."

"Tyco and Cee-Nine are in the captain's office with the prisoner," the man stammered out.

"Cee-Nine?" asked Shepard.

"Sounds like a code name. Probably for the traitor," said Roussel.

"So can I go now?" asked the soldier.

Roussel answered by blowing the man's head off. Shepard glared at her. "I gave him my word."

"I didn't," she pointed out. "Come on, we've got a pilot and robot to save."

Shepard huffed angrily but followed. A combat zone wasn't the place to get into philosophical debates, not when there were lives on the line. _Focus on the mission_ , he reminded himself. They found the captain's office easily, as with before Roussel paused to take a look through thermal vision.

"I see three contacts. Two of them are standing, the third is in a chair and looks to be bound."

"Tina?"

"Looks female, so probably. Hmmm."

"What?"

"I'm getting some weird readings from Miranda. It's probably just interference," Roussel assured.

Once again the two took breaching positions against the door. Shepard took the lead again and held up three fingers.

3...

2...

1-

The door slid open.

"Come in Commander, we've been expecting you. Ms. Roussel is welcome as well," Shepard heard Miranda say. He looked to Roussel, who shrugged. Expecting to be shot at the minute he peeked his head out, Shepard strengthened his personal Barrier and stepped into the room. Roussel cautiously followed after.

Tyco was standing behind his desk, pistol pointed threateningly. Miranda on the other hand was standing with her back to them, in front of the hostage.

"It's over," Shepard said firmly. "I suggest you both surrender."

"Never!" declared Tyco, "we'll die first!"

"Excuse the Captain, Shepard. He's not use to being outsmarted," said Miranda.

"And you are?" challenged the Commander.

"Heh," there was a smile on her voice. "I have experience with it. Enough to understand that being outsmarted is a possibility no matter how much experience you have. The trick is to get in the last laugh."

"You can laugh all you want from behind bars bitch," said Roussel.

"Mmmm, no. I think I'll have it right now." Miranda stepped to the side, revealing the hostage: Miranda.

Shepard's mind reeled, and he nearly took a step back from pure shock. Dark raven hair, a strong jaw line, icy blue eyes. It was definitely Miranda who was sitting bound and gagged in the chair. But that couldn't be right! He looked to the other Miranda. The one standing and looking at him haughtily, no doubt reveling in the confused look on his face. Shepard blinked several times to try and clear his vision. But no matter how hard he looked, he could see nothing different between the two.

"What the fuck?" asked Roussel, giving voice to his own thoughts.

Shepard pointed his pistol at the standing Miranda. There was a flash of bright light, and Miranda changed into a man. One wearing dark clothing, whose face was obscured behind a hood and featureless mask. Like a living shadow, the man pounced out of Shepard's sights to move behind Miranda, the real Miranda, and hold a knife to her throat.

"Heh," The imposter's voice shifted gradually from Miranda's to a soft yet undeniably masculine voice, "you should see the look on your face Commander."

* * *

As Commander Shepard and Agent Roussel tried to comprehend what they had just seen, the imperial agent took the moment to take stock of his options. The compound was lost, which was unfortunate, but not devastating. Given what he had accomplished here he was sure his superiors would forgive the loss of one measly base and several dozen men. There were also enemy combatants surrounding the building even now. He had counted around 27, before he and Tyco had taken refuge in the command center.

Commander Shepard and Agent Roussel, arguably some of the deadliest soldiers in the Alliance military, were just three meters away. They were stunned, but not enough to be passive. Still, the smallest advantage was still an advantage. He had a hostage: Miranda Lawson. Quite possibly the most beautiful Human woman the agent had ever had the pleasure of meeting. It was unfortunate that she was with the enemy, she would have fit right in with Imperial Intelligence.

Even while holding a knife to her throat, the agent could appreciate the smoothness of her skin, the excellent tone of her figure, and the perfect silkiness of her hair.

 _Perhaps I can convince her to change sides for real_ , he thought to himself.

"Who the hell are you?" demanded Shepard, snapping the agent out of his thoughts.

 _Right, deal with angry Humans pointing guns first. Plot to seduce beautiful perfect Human woman later_ , he thought with some amusement.

"You want a name?" he asked, unable to hide his enjoyment of the situation. "I'm afraid even if I wanted to give you one I can't, you see I don't have a name to begin with. It makes first time meetings very awkward."

"Don't play with me!"

Beneath his mask the imperial agent smiled. "Oh very well, if it means that much to you. Most people simply call me by my codename: Cipher Nine."

"Cipher Nine," Shepard rolled the words passed his lips as though testing them. "It was you all along. Miranda was never a traitor, you were pretending to be her."

The agent noted the subtle triumph inside the Commander's words.

"Well done," Cipher Nine said mockingly, "you figured it out, and it only took me dropping my holo-disguise right in front of you for it to happen. I'd clap but...well...it would be unwise to underestimate Ms. Lawson." Cipher Nine pressed the blade of his knife harder against Miranda's neck, eliciting a sharp intake of air from the woman.

"Let her go," ordered Shepard.

Cipher Nine snorted. "Now why would I do that?"

"You've got no way out now. All your men are dead. There's no one coming to save you. The only way you get out of this alive is to let her go and surrender."

"A fair point. But not enough to make me give up. I once had to take down a secret galactic terrorist organization with only an anarchist, a diplomat, a psychopathic droid, a mad doctor, and my protégé for back up. In comparison, escaping this base is hardly stressful for me."

"You've lost," insisted Shepard, "whether I take you in one piece depends on what you do next."

Cipher Nine shook his head patronizingly. "Poor, poor, Commander Shepard. You think you have a chance. You think you know what it is you're up against. What was you're first explanation for what was happening? The Reapers?"

Shepard shifted almost imperceptibly, and Cipher Nine knew he'd struck a nerve.

"You thought Miranda had been indoctrinated, didn't you. How much time did you waste trying to come up with alternative explanations? How long did you refuse to believe that Miranda was a traitor? It must have been like trying to grab water."

"It's called trust," Shepard shot back. "Maybe you've heard of it?"

"Heh, there's two kind of trust: the helpful kind and the blind kind. You have the second, and it will cost you some day," said Cipher Nine. As he spoke he shifted his feet in preparation for his next move. "There are things in the universe far worse than the Reapers."

"Like what?"

"You'll learn soon enough. Until then, I'm under orders not to be taken captive. So unfortunately I'm going to have to force you to make a choice."

Cipher Nine lowered his head down and whispered into Miranda's ear.

"Until we meet again Ms. Lawson."

Then he sliced open her throat.

* * *

Shepard watched in stunned horror as a thin spray of blood burst from the fresh smiling wound across Miranda's neck. Coldly Cipher Nine shoved the woman out of the chair towards the Commander.

"Help her or chase after us. Your choice."

Without another word Cipher Nine and Captain Tyco leapt through the nearest window. Shepard didn't hesitate, and rushed to Miranda's side. Roussel on the other hand didn't even bat an eye and immediately followed after them through the window.

Shepard desperately recalled the basic medical training he'd received in boot camp. Gently, he laid Miranda down on the floor so that gravity would prevent the blood from escaping too quickly. Then he activated his Omni-tool's medical suite and applied a generous amount of Medi-gel to the wound.

The bleeding soon stopped, stemmed by the viscous medicine. Miranda struggled against the Omni-cuffs binding her wrists and ankles. Shepard broke them with his Biotics. Once freed, Miranda immediately used one hand to motion towards the window Tyco and Cipher Nine had jumped out of.

"G...g...go," she whispered weakly.

 _That_ was the Miranda that he knew. Always thinking about the mission. He gave her a small canister of Medi-gel, just in case, and then jumped through the window after Cipher Nine and Tyco.

* * *

Like all centers of scum and villainy, Kuussov had a healthy nightlife. Denizens of every species walked the neon lit streets of the city searching for every form of debauchery imaginable. As a result Cipher Nine and Tyco were forced to not only navigate a maze of streets but maneuver around the considerable amount of people in their way.

Cipher Nine, had done missions on Nar Shadda, whose red light sector was easily 10 times larger and busier than Kuussov's. He had no trouble finding his way through the crowds of drunk and drugged individuals. Captain Tyco on the other hand was a stellar example of a Reek inside of an artifact shop.

It was almost painful for Cipher Nine, watching the Captain bump and bounce through the crowds. It also worried him a bit, delays were not something you wanted when The Butcher of Torfan was trailing you. Shepard might be willing to pause for a friend, but the agent knew that Laura Roussel had no such inhibitions.

"Hey! Watch it!" growled a Turian who had his pants down and was being 'serviced' by an Asari prostitute.

"Apologies sir!" Cipher Nine chuckled as he and Tyco exited the dirty alley where the deed was being done.

"I'm so glad you're having fun. I hope you're able to continue having it when The Wrath executes us for failing the mission!" Tyco spat furiously.

"Relax Captain. The mission, though not perfect, achieved its goal. Both The Wrath and The Emperor will be pleased."

"Pleased? How could they possibly be-"

"ARGH! Can't a Turian get some privacy!" Cipher Nine heard the same Turian they had interrupted complain from the alley. He gave a look over his shoulder just in time to see a figure in black armor exit the same alley. It turned its single deep blue eye upon them.

Cipher Nine felt a smile crease his lips as he felt adrenaline rush through his veins. "Here she comes."

Tyco hastily fired a volley of shots from his blaster pistol. All of them were dead on, but Roussel gracefully dodged and avoided, which only served to infuriate the captain.

"Die you damn _schutta_!" He fired again and again, but continued to be unsuccessful. Cipher Nine had to admit to himself that he was impressed. She was almost as good as a Force Sensitive at predicting the trajectory of the lasers, and as uncaring as the coldest imperial agent.

When she'd crossed half the distance between them in just a few seconds, she grabbed a nearby bystander, a Batarian, and used him as a shield. The poor alien was forced to soak up five shots before Roussel abandoned his corpse on the ground. Having seen enough, and in no mood to fight, Cipher Nine grabbed Tyco by the shoulder and dragged him into a nearby open top aircar.

Roussel fired her Hellfire twice, peppering the vehicle's bumper and destroying a tail light.

"She's coming!"

"Calm down," Cipher Nine ordered. His Omni-tool flashed, running a quick hacking program that overrode the vehicle's ignition system. The engine roared to life and Cipher Nine took the wheel. They began to ascend up into the night. Cipher Nine took a quick glance in the rear view mirror.

He watched as Roussel leaped up, as if to fly after them. It didn't look like she would make it. Then micro-jets on the back of her armor fired and provided the SAI agent with the needed boost to reach them. Unsheathing her Kukri and wielding it like a climbing pick, she sank the knife into the trunk.

Cipher Nine was impressed.

"Damn it! Shake her off!" ordered Tyco.

The car swerved back and forth, up and down, but the woman in black armor remained firmly stuck on the trunk like an unwanted blemish. They then heard the loud boom of her shotgun twice.

"What's she firing at?" asked Cipher Nine. His answer came when their vehicle began to descend rapidly and alarms spread out across the holographic dashboard.

"Kriff! She took out the anti-grav repulsors!"

"Clever girl," muttered Cipher Nine. "Unfortunately for her, we're almost to the space port. I say we let her have the car."

Both Imperials jumped out, abandoning the stolen aircar and its unwanted stowaway to crash in the streets. Before they too could crash into the streets, both pulled out a small grapple spike launcher. Cipher Nine fired his into a nearby neon sign and lowered himself safely to the ground.

Tyco made his landing with less grace, but was equally uninjured. The two watched their stolen aircar soar overhead with Roussel still holding onto its trunk.

"Ha! We've lost her," Tyco cheered.

Then The Butcher looked down, fixing her blue eye of her mask upon them like a spotlight.

"I think you made her angry," commented Cipher Nine.

The SAI Agent yanked her blade out of the air car and fell. She had no grapple spike launcher, but the micro-jets in her armor's back, calves, and shoulders, fired to slow her descent for a soft landing. Tyco took aim at her with his pistol, and Cipher Nine knew that this time the captain would hit his target.

Then a streak of blue struck Tyco and sent the man flying six meters. Commander Shepard stood in the captain's place, his body wreathed in a fiery blue cloak. He turned towards Cipher Nine and stretched out his hand to cast out a blue orb towards the agent.

In his long career as a Cipher agent, Cipher Nine had found himself constantly put up against Force users, both Jedi and Sith. Their powers were invisible and so he had been forced to learn how to anticipate and counter. In comparison, the blue energy that accompanied each Biotic attack was practically screaming for him to avoid it.

Cipher Nine gracefully executed a combat roll out of the arcing orb, causing it to splash harmlessly on the ground. He then whipped out his pistol and fired six consecutive shots rapidly. As expected, the Commander raised a barrier to protect himself, just what the agent wanted.

Quickly he unclipped a metal sphere from his belt, thumbed the activation button, and tossed it. The cryo grenade detonated, drowning the Commander in a slurry of quick freezing liquid. Shepard let out a quick cry of surprise before the substance finished its transformation and rendered him as silent and still as a statue.

That wouldn't hold the Commander for long, Cipher Nine knew. In the next 60 seconds the liquid would dissolve and Shepard would be free. The agent grabbed Tyco, pulling him to his feet. The captain gasped with pain and Cipher Nine saw that his armor was cracked, and likely so were the man's ribs.

Tyco was lucky, Cipher Nine thought, considering Commander Shepard's punches were famous for doing much worse.

"Come on Tyco! We have to move!"

* * *

Shepard had never been buried alive before. But he was fairly certain that this was what it would be like. Whatever gunk had exploded out from Cipher Nine's grenade had covered him, hardened, and was now restricting his movements. Despite his enhanced strength he could not break free.

Great, he was stuck being a living statue. Meanwhile Cipher Nine and Tyco were probably laughing their way to the spaceport.

The thought made Shepard angry.

No! He was not about to let those assholes just walk off Kal-Riv. Not after everything they had done to his team! Fueled by his hate, Shepard budged as hard as he could against his prison. Then he realized, he had budged! If the fast freezing substance had really coated him, then he shouldn't have been able to move at all.

Shepard chuckled at his own stupidity. His Barrier had protected him, holding the liquid back just a couple centimeters off of his skin. With a thought he detonated his Barrier into a Nova, shattering his prison and releasing him back into the world.

"Enjoy your nap poster boy?"

Shepard immediately wanted to be imprisoned again, if only so he would have to deal with her. He was about to respond but Roussel had already sprinted off after the targets.

* * *

For reasons she could not fathom, Tina had been separated from the others when they had all been taken prisoner. As a result, she had spent the last 3 hours tied to her own pilot's seat. Thankfully the chair was comfortable, she made a mental note to look into getting leather for her own fighter's seat.

From what she could gather by looking out through the cockpit window and listening to the idle chatter of the CAT6 hangar guards, the _JingXi_ had been taken to the PMC's private hangar in the upper-city spaceport. As she sat, Tina attempted to formulate a plan for escape. There were no less than at least six guards in the hangar at all times. She struggled against her rope restraints but to no avail.

Damn it! She was a pilot, not a spy!

Then when Tyco and a man wearing all black boarded the _JingXi_ , Tina felt what little hope she had plummet. To her surprise she was freed of her restraints.

"What are you doing?" asked Tyco.

"She's still of use to us," said the man in black. Tina found his voice oddly pleasant to listen to. "There's an Alliance Battle Group waiting in system. The minute we escape out of the planet's atmosphere The Butcher will order it to intercept. We need to make sure we're not just blown up."

Tyco nodded, accepting the explanation. Then he put the barrel of his pistol to the back of Tina's head.

"Start the kriffing ship!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm starting!" she said, as she tried to begin the lift off sequence with a gun to her head.

The man in black looked from her to Tyco, and seemed to frown. "Why don't you keep an eye out for our pursuers with the men. I know how to fly this galaxy's ships. I can help her and keep an eye on her."

"You actually learned how to pilot these primitive things?" scoffed Tyco. "Fine, the sooner we're off. The better."

When Tyco left the cockpit, the man in black reached over and grabbed her by the wrist.

"That's enough ma'am. This ship isn't going anywhere."

"Uh...what? Don't you wanna escape," asked Tina, thoroughly confused.

"Of course I do. But sometimes for the mission to succeed, sacrifices must be made. Because you see I'm right. With that Alliance Battle Group waiting up there, we'd never escape, even with you as a hostage. They'll just fire on the ship's engines and board it. But you were hoping for that weren't you?"

Tina felt her gut twist. The only reason she had willingly gone along with flying the ship for them was because she had indeed known just that.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you. Tyco might, but I won't." The man in black stood up and checked something on his wrist. "Hm, it seems your rescue is coming sooner than I anticipated. Good for you, I suppose."

"Um..." Tina didn't know what to say, so she remained quiet.

A shout came from the hangar outside, followed by the sound of gunfire.

"And there's my cue to leave," said the man in black. He waved an almost cute goodbye to Tina, then vanished into thin air. Tyco came running into the cockpit a mere second later.

"Agent! We need to-," he looked frantically around the cockpit, then settled his gaze on the lone Tina. "Where is he?!"

"I don't-"

"ARRGH," Tyco slammed a fist into the wall. "Damn you Cipher Nine! Damn you!"

* * *

Shepard finished off the last of the CAT6 hangar guards with a single Warp. With Roussel at his side, he moved towards the _JingXi_. The ship remained planted inside of the docks, but just in case Roussel had contacted Comodore Zaman. The 8th Carrier Battle Group had moved to block any attempt to escape the system. Tyco and Cipher Nine were trapped.

"I see two heat signatures inside," whispered Roussel.

Shepard nodded. "How are we getting inside? All the entrances are closed and locked."

"You still got enough energy for your blue space magic?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Remember that exercise we did? Flight 8969?"

Shepard let out a nostalgic snort. "Yeah, I remember."

* * *

Tyco continued to vent his rage on the _JingXi_ , Tina tried her very best to stay out his way. She desperately hoped that Lieutenant Commander Roussel and Commander Shepard would show up soon. The man in black had said they were close, and Tyco seemed frantic with fear. But Tina was starting to worry that his fear would cause him to become unstable, and she did not want to be around for that.

What sounded like a light knock came from behind.

She turned, to see Commander Shepard and Lieutenant Commander Roussel crouching on the _JingXi's_ nose. Commander Shepard waved charmingly at her, and despite her situation, Tina blushed.

"Blast!" Roughly, Tyco grabbed Tina by her straw colored hair and yanked her back towards the cockpit door.

Shepard shattered the cockpit window with a single Biotic punch. Then he and Roussel leaped into the ship, guns raised.

"Stay back!" ordered Tyco, his voice was overflowing with desperation. "Stay back or I kill her."

Roussel took a step forward, but then Shepard grabbed her and pulled her back. She shot him an annoyed glare, which he caught even through her helmet. He gestured for her to let him handle this.

"It's over Tyco. You've got nowhere left to go."

"I don't think so! I may not be able to use this ship! But Cipher Nine must have one! That's why he's betrayed me! He had a ship here this whole time! And the bastard never even told me!"

Tina flinched as Tyco tugged on her hair and moved them back towards the airlock entrance.

"I've got a shot!" Roussel said.

"No! You'll hit Tina!"

"He's going to get away!"

"Don't shoot!" ordered Shepard.

Tina was glad that Commander Shepard seemed to be the one calling the shots. She was quite sure that The Butcher would happily sacrifice her if it meant getting the bad guy. Finally Tyco had brought them to the airlock.

"Open it!" he ordered her, and pulled her hair again.

"I don't-" she tried to tell him that she couldn't see where the controls were. But Tyco took it as an attempt at escape.

"No talking! If I hear so much as another peep from you, I will blast you full of-"

Suddenly, Tina threw her head back. Her cranium smashed into Tyco's nose with an audible crunch, he yelped in pain and reflexively released her hair. The instant she was out of the way, Commander Shepard performed a Charge and slammed into Tyco, throwing him against the bulkhead.

Like a boneless doll, Tyco fell to the floor with a groan. Shepard mercilessly planted his knee on the man's backside.

"We've got you, you son of a bitch." He then turned Tina. "You okay ma'am?"

Tina nodded. "Yes sir."

Shepard returned the nod, then turned back to Tyco. "Where's Legion?"

"Go to hell," Tyco spat.

Roussel stepped forward and put the barrel of her shotgun to Tyco's head. "Talk fast shit stain, or I'm decorating my ship with your brains."

At first it seemed that Tyco make her do just that. But finally, his survival instinct won out. "Cipher Nine has your droid, he's probably taken it off planet by now."

"What? Why?" asked Shepard.

Tyco just snorted. "I wish I knew."

* * *

 **Aboard _The Silent Hand_ **

The sleek form of a X-70B Phantom-class star ship, called _The_ _Silent Hand_ broke through Kal-Riv's atmosphere. There it found the 8th Alliance Carrier Group lying in wait. But _The Silent Hand_ had earned it's name from years of slipping past all manner of sensor technology. Compared to the instruments used by the Sith Empire and the former Galactic Republic, those used by the Alliance ships might as well have been a 19th century periscope.

 _The Silent Hand_ , slipped by the 8th Carrier Group, and not a sensor analyst aboard any of the ships had even noticed. Kuussov, and soon Kal-Riv, became distant specks. Once he came to the edge of the system, Cipher Nine plotted a course in his navi-computer and engaged _The Silent Hand's_ hyperdrive.

The stars themselves began to stretch, and then _The Silent Hand_ shot through space, leaving Kuussov, Kal-Riv, and the entire nebula behind.

Confident that he was free of any further hindrances, Cipher Nine accessed his ship's communications array and opened up a channel. In mere moments a connection was made, and the blue-gray form of Emperor Revan himself appeared above the ship's holoterminal.

"My Emperor," the Imperial agent bowed his head respectfully.

 _"Cipher Nine,"_ greeted Revan. _"Have you succeeded in your mission?"_

"Yes my Emperor. I have successfully captured the Geth known as Legion, and am bringing it to Rannoch for you as we speak."

 _"That is good to hear. I trust it did not give you too much trouble."_

"A little," admitted Cipher Nine. "I had to disguise myself as a buxom lass, drag it from a truck to my ship, and avoid STG and Council Spectres. But all in all, I'd say it was a fairly routine mission."

 _"Excellent. It is time for negotiations with the Geth to progress. I look forward to your arrival. You have done well, agent."_

Cipher Nine allowed himself a cocky grin. "All in a day's work, my Emperor."

* * *

 **The _JingXi_ \- Cargo bay**

Disheartenment had gripped the _JingXi_. As Shepard felt the ship jerk and lift off from Kuussov's surface, he couldn't help but feel that he was right back where he'd started. He tried to focus on the good that had come from this mission. They'd captured Tyco, which had been the goal. They had also taken down his men and secured their weapons and armor, a ghost of a smirk touched his lips as he thought about how excited Tali and Mordin would be to look over them.

But they had lost Legion.

The Geth was out there somewhere, captured by the mysterious man: Cipher Nine. Shepard wasn't even sure Cipher Nine was really a man. For all he knew, what he had seen could simply be another disguise created by a hologram. A holo-disguise is what Cipher Nine had called it. More technology that was beyond what was possible.

Holograms were prevalent in the galaxy. But to use them to disguise oneself, and with such accuracy, was frankly unheard of. Maybe Roussel would know more, she was a spy after all, and would be more privy to the sort of toys spies had access to these days.

Shepard's eyes drifted to Miranda. She was lying down nearby on medical bed the marines had pulled out from one of the containers. There was a cast around her neck, and Shepard couldn't help but flinch every time he saw it. He had been so stunned by the revelation of Cipher Nine, that he had almost let one of his friends die.

The STG medic that had attended her before they left, said that she would make a full recovery. The wound was apparently not that deep. Still, the knowledge did not help Shepard forget, he could still see Cipher Nine slicing open Miranda's throat.

Shepard lowered his face into his hands. How had this happened? How had they all survived a mission all of them were sure they wouldn't be coming back from, only for this to happen?

His eyes drifted to Tyco, who had been thrown unceremoniously into a corner, bound and gagged. Two armed marines watched him at all times. The man looked just as defeated as Shepard felt. At least they had him, and soon they would have answers to their questions.

Shepard was looking forward to the interrogation.

 _"Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian to the cockpit. Commander Shepard and Garrus Vakarian to the cockpit."_ Tina's unexpected voice over the ship intercom snapped Shepard out of his thoughts.

"What now?" groaned Garrus.

Shepard just shrugged, he was too tired to banter right now.

When they arrived at the cockpit, they found the _SSV Baldwin_ growing in the window. Hovering next to it, about the size of a fly, was the _Normandy_. It had been less than a day since he'd last seen it, but Shepard couldn't help feeling an overwhelming sense of joy upon seeing it again.

"What going on?" Shepard asked.

Roussel answered from the co-pilot's seat. "The _Baldwin_ has a transmission from the Citadel for you. Patching it in now."

 _"Shepard,"_ the voice of David Anderson greeted him, _"I've been trying to reach you for a while."_

Just like seeing the _Normandy_ , Shepard felt a bit of his energy return upon hearing the voice of the Councilor.

"Sorry sir. Had to go dark for a mission. I actually wanted to talk to you as well. We accomplished our mission and-"

 _"Shepard listen to me,"_ Anderson's voice was heavy. _"It's about the Hierarchy's 9th Fleet and 141st Legion."_

Shepard recalled that those were the forces sent by the Council to restore order on Tuchanka. Garrus noticeably shifted upon hearing about the 141st, his father was the General of that legion.

"What happened?" asked Shepard, "did they run into trouble?"

For a beat, the only noise inside the cockpit was the sound of breathing.

 _"They're gone Shepard,"_ Anderson finally said.

"Gone?! What do you mean gone?!" demanded Garrus.

 _"I mean the entire peace keeping force the Council sent to Tuchanka has been destroyed."_

* * *

 **Alright! That arc is done!**

 **Hey there everyone! Apologies for the long wait. Originally I wanted to release this chapter before the end of 2017, but that just didn't happen. I was too tired to do any writing and I really needed a break. But after some rest over the holidays, I managed to find my inspiration again.**

 **This will mark the beginning of the actual "war" that I have been promising since the beginning of the story. I have some ideas for the next chapter, and I think you'll all like them.**

 **Thank you to everyone whose sticking with the story. It really provides me with much encouragement. I can't promise that the next chapter will be out soon, but I will try my best. I think that it will be easier for me to pump it out because it will feature the most crossover so far.**

 **So please tell me what you thought of this chapters developments.**

 **Legion has been captured, but for what purpose?**

 **Cipher Nine makes his first appearance since shoot Wrex! I hope you liked him and how suave he was.**

 **Garrus' father is in jeopardy!**

 **Leave a review and tell me what you thought!**

 **Bye!**


	14. Chapter 8: Tragedy of Tuchanka, Part 1

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts Ltd and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **hunter 139 -** As hilarious as that would be, not even Sparatus will be able to deny what happens next. **  
** **blazenite 104 -** Both are certainly a possibility. **  
** **Old one Griffin -** Thank you, also I love writing The Wrath so we'll see more of him soon. **  
** **Barrour -** The SWTOR Bounty Hunter will make an appearance eventually, don't want to give away when though. **  
** **muratira -** Every army has its share of sniveling incompetents and cowards unfortunately. Reverse engineering is a possibility, but I doubt it would help. After all, the Republic had energy weapons as well, and they're all dead. **  
** **Drygen -** Which is why they'll need some help. *Wink* **  
** **fresh prince1 -** Thanks! **  
** **RabidArmenian -** No problem, I enjoy interacting with my readers. **  
** **Terlander -** It's less the Empire, and more Cipher Nine's personality in this story. I'll expand on it a more later in the story, but this Cipher Nine is the type who will avoid collateral casualties when possible. **  
** **Cyricist001 -** That's fair criticism, but I attribute that more to how my Cipher Nine operates, which I explain above. **  
** **Guest -** Thanks!

 **Half exposition, half lots of Turians dying. For those of you wondering why none of the _Normandy_ team died when encountering Cipher Nine, my Cipher Nine is more "light side" than most Imperials. If able to get the job done without unnecessary casualties, he will do so. I hinted at this through his use of non-lethal weaponry such as cryo grenades.**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 8 – Tragedy on Tuchanka, Part 1**

* * *

Two days before the capture of the Imperial soldier: Captain Tyco.

On the first day of the battle that would historically become known as: The Tragedy of Tuchanka, gathered forces of the Turian Hierarchy's 141st legion and their escort, the 9th fleet, were in high spirits.

All were unaware of the hell that awaited them...

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet**

 **Dreadnought - _Steadfast_** **\- Bridge**

Admiral Kivara Regirus, like most members of the Hierarchy's military, was a creature of discipline and routine. She had gone through her morning as she did every morning, with efficiency and strict timing. She had woken at exactly 0600 hours, ship time. Performed her usual aerobic workout in the gym reserved for officers. Reviewed her schedule over a cup of black coffee and a breakfast tailored to optimal nutritional needs, in her quarters. Then assumed her post on the bridge at exactly 0700 hours.

Just like every other day.

But today was not like every other day.

On every other day the 9th fleet would be patrolling the boarders of the Terminus for pirates or the increased activity of warlord Thog Kay'tor. But today, the 9th fleet moved towards Tuchanka, home world of the Krogan species. As Kivara stood on the bridge of the _Steadfast_ , she stared intensely at the distant planet slowly growing in the forward viewport, and could not help but feel an overwhelming sense of history as she looked upon its surface, which was a mix of sickly browns.

A long time ago her people had come to this world to save the galaxy from these barbarians. The peace that had followed after had lasted for over a thousand years. Now these savages were once again rising up to threaten that peace.

"We'll just have to beat them down harder this time," Kivara whispered to herself.

The door to the bridge slid open with a hiss behind her. She turned towards it and saw her partner in this crusade: General Castius Vakarian.

"General Vakarian," Kivara' voice was loud and held unquestionable authority. "I was just admiring our theatre of war. How fare the preparation of your men?"

"My men are eager and ready Admiral Regirus." The general's voice was heavy with experience.

"Good. Subduing the Krogan today will not be as difficult as it was for our predecessors. But we should still be prepared. After all, a cornered varren is a dangerous varren."

"Especially when that varren is armed with shotguns and automatic rifles," Castius quipped.

Kivara rolled her eyes. The general had a tendency to slide in 'witty' comments from time to time. It was irritating, but Kivara allowed it due to the fact that Castius had the ear of the Primarch himself. It would not do to insult someone with the favor of the Hierarchy's leadership.

"When can we expect to arrive?" he asked.

"In just a little under 5 hours."

"So quickly?"

"The Krogan have no navy to speak of, so we will not waste time with sending out scouts. We will simply move in and deploy the fleet as we see fit."

"Hm, very good," said Castius, "it will be a nice change to not worry how many of our soldiers will make it to the surface."

"We can thank Commander Shepard for that as well. Apparently while he was here, he disabled their only anti-aircraft weapon."

Castius grunted again. Kivara noted that he seemed to not want to talk about the human. Perhaps like her, the general did not care for the human species. Kivara had fought in the Relay 314 incident, she had just been a lieutenant then. She still had scars obtained from fighting off a squad of humans that had boarded the ship she had been serving on at the time.

In the far right corner of the _Steadfast's_ forward viewport, Kivara noted the one ship in her fleet not of Turian make. Like all Asari made ships, the _Joining Tide_ was smooth, pleasant to look at, and vaguely reminded Kivara of a sea creature.

"What of the ambassadors?" she asked, gesturing to the _Joining Tide_ with her chin.

"Still debating on what the best way to approach the Krogan will be. Irissa thinks she can seduce the entire species by wearing a pretty dress and batting her eyelashes. Esheel thinks we should bombard them from orbit. Quentius wants to send them a message first and wait for them to reply. And Udina is just trying to keep every amicable."

Kivara shook her head. "Politicians."

"Politicians," agreed Castius.

Both Turians saw the ambassadors for what they were: a show. The four politicians were here so that the Council could claim that they had indeed tried to make peace. When the Krogan inevitably fired the first shot, the real mission would begin, and that would be where the 9th fleet and 141st legion could step in.

"This will be a day long remembered," she said, returning her gaze to the slowly growing Tuchanka. "Our children's children will know of this day."

Castius gave an unenthusiastic grunt. Obviously he didn't much care whether what happened next would be remembered. That was fine with Kivara. In her opinion he had gained plenty of glory already and ought to move aside to let someone else have a turn.

Kivara' career was an exemplary one, she would not be Admiral of the 9th fleet if it were not. But she had long hoped to be given the chance for something greater, to earn her place in the annals of Turian history. This mission would provide her with that. Years from now, the academies of Palevan would teach lessons of her part in beating down that race of barbarians.

Today was not like any other day she had ever lived.

Today, she became a legend.

All she had to do was wait another 5 hours.

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet**

 **Frigate - _Val'Talon_** **\- Mess Hall**

"You should call her."

Sergeant Tiberius did his best not to show his irritation. As his immediate superior, Tiberius had the upmost respect for Lieutenant Naevra, but sometimes she showed her age and got a little too meddlesome in the personal affairs of her subordinates.

He had come to the mess hall because he was hungry. He'd been sloppy in not noticing that she was here as well. Now he had been pulled into one of her dreaded 'conversations', where she tried to get to know him better. When she had sat down across from him, he had nearly made up some false excuse for not sticking around. But as always, somehow she managed to keep him in his seat.

"I think it would be a real nice thing for you to do," she continued.

"Nah," he replied, scratching at his neck. "It wouldn't do any good."

Naevra rolled her eyes. "You sound like my father. He didn't like calling my mother and I before he was deployed either."

"Then he was smart. Calling them just makes you think about them more. Then when you're on the ground, all you can think about is what's going to happen if you don't make it. A soldier doesn't need that kind of distraction, especially not on the battlefield."

"But she's your daughter," Naevra protested.

Tiberius stuck a mouthful of food into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. He tried to remember how the lieutenant had even come to know about his daughter. Likely the same way she learned how his favorite food was fish, and he had wanted to be a superhero as a child: through conversation. It was an odd and dangerous ability she had, somehow making people spew out random facts about themselves as though privacy meant nothing.

"She doesn't want to talk to me," he finally grumbled.

"Every daughter wants to talk to their father."

"Not Falia. She's an Asari. She'll be here long after I'm dead and buried. I'm just a blink for her, less really, considering how old I am."

"Just cause she's not Turian doesn't mean she doesn't want a hello every now and then from her daddy."

"I'm not going to be around much longer. It's best she learn that now," he tried, but his heart wasn't really in it. He looked up from his food and saw the lieutenant, staring at him skeptically with her kind youthful eyes.

"Alright," she said, "I won't force you to. But I just think you should know, it would make her happy." The lieutenant picked up her tray of half finished food. "I think I would have been a happier kid, if my dad would have just given me a call every once in a while."

She left, leaving Tiberius alone with his thoughts. He picked at his food, no longer hungry. A thought crossed his mind. Checking to make sure there was no one around to catch him in the act, Tiberius brought up his Omni-tool, and from it her produced a holographic picture.

In the picture were two Asari. One was older and beautiful, her name was Chrisana, a Matriach he had met while on leave. Their encounter had been little more than several drinks and a few passionate nights in a hotel. The second Asari in the picture was a direct result of those passionate nights. She was still young, a toddler really. Her name was Falia.

He hadn't married Chrisana when Falia had been born. He hadn't even known about his daughter till about 2 years ago when he had just so happened to bump into them on the Citadel.

It had been a big surprise to say the least.

He had visited and talked with both of them rather infrequently since then. He told himself that he didn't have the time, that his work was getting in the way. That was a lie of course. He was just afraid of commitment, of getting attached to Falia. He hadn't been lying about his age. He wasn't a young Turian anymore, he wouldn't be around for much longer.

Tiberius thought back to the lieutenant's words: _"you should call her."_ He wanted to. But should he?

He checked the time on his Omni-tool.

4 more hours till landfall, before he had to make his decision.

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet**

 **Carrier - _Resolute_** **\- Hangar**

Lieutenant Tanidos sat back in the seat of his A-61 Mantis gunship, naked. Sitting in his lap, also naked, was Lieutenant Pilra. She was his lover and his copilot for the gunship. In the navy, it was generally considered a good idea to develop a friendship with the Turian that would be helping you fly. Tanidos and Pilra had started as good friends. As time had gone on, they became more.

Fraternization was again regulations, and for a time the two resisted their attraction to one another. At one point, Tanidos had even thought about asking for a transfer. But in the end, the two had given into their desire, and thus began their secret relationship.

"We should get dressed," said Pilra as she traced small circles into his chest.

"Let's just wait a little longer," he begged.

"We can't," she began to move off of him. "We'll be called to duty soon. I don't know about you, but I don't find the idea of flying into battle naked very appealing."

Tandio wrapped his arms around her slender waist and pulled her back. "Just a little longer."

She put up a strong resistance at first, but then their eyes met, and she melted back against him. Both let out a satisfied sigh as their bodies touched.

"You're hopeless," she whispered.

"I know," he replied, drawing a talon down her spine. She shivered at his electrifying touch, then reached up to pull him into a deep kiss. Slowly the two descended deeper into their passion.

Tanidos loved it. When he was with Pilra, everything else simply seemed to fade away. He forgot that they were on a ship with hundreds of other Turians. He forgot that their relationship was forbidden and punishable. He forgot that in the upcoming battle, both or either of them could die.

He just forgot, and let himself feel.

A loud knock against the gunship's windshield startled the two lovers. They immediately broke their embrace, forgetting for a moment that the glass was tinted, and that no one outside could see into the cockpit.

"Hey! You two love birds making love in there?" asked a voice.

Pilra sighed with frustration. "Spirits damn you Jurin Phomis! You nearly gave me a damned heart attack!"

"I bet that's not the only kind of attacking going on in there." Jurin Phomis was one of the few Turians in the 9th fleet, that the couple trusted with their secret. In return for their trust, Jurin made sure to tease them about their relationship every chance he got.

"Do you want something Jurin?" Tanidos did little to mask his impatience. Jurin was a good friend, but he could the galaxy's worst cockblocker sometimes.

"Just wanted to remind you to keep an eye on the time. Their gonna be telling us to mobilize soon."

"How soon?" asked Pilra.

"3 hours. Remember to put on your clothes."

After Jurin had left, Pilra stared up Tanidos with a look that said 'I told you so'. Normally it terrified him to be on the receiving end of that glare. But since she was naked and in his arms, he found it kind of cute.

"What?" she demanded.

He smiled.

"We can get a lot done in just 3 hours."

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet**

 **Cruiser - _Solivar_** **\- Cargo Bay**

"So...you've probably seen a lot of action, right?"

"Yup."

"Have you ever killed any Krogan."

"Uh huh."

"Great! That's...great." Apus Kilus silently cursed himself. He was trying really, really, **REALLY** , hard not to fulfill the bumbling young new guy stereotype. But he was failing, horrendously. The young private had been spending the last 10 minutes attempting to start a conversation with Sergeant Hyber.

The Sergeant looked like something off of a recruiting poster. Tall, large, grizzled, and with plenty of scars decorating his plates. Apus had hoped to get to know him a bit better. But so far the Sergeant had deigned to only reply to his questions with curt one word responses. Apus couldn't tell if that meant the Sergeant was annoyed or just didn't care. Maybe both?

"Hey Kilus!" Corporal Raliv called. "Get over here! Need your help with something."

"Coming sir!" Apus nearly hugged Raliv. But stopped himself, and instead saluted by thumping a fist to his chest. "What do you need sir?"

Raliv chuckled. "Not a thing private. But it looked like you were about to eat your gun if you sat next to the sarge any longer."

"Oh, I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to-"

"Nah it's alright," Raliv's tone was assuring. "Don't take it personally. Sergeant Hyber is like that with everyone. He'll shout a hole through your head on the battlefield, but off of it, he barely makes a peep."

"I see." Apus did not, but he didn't want to look stupid.

"Tell you what. If you need something to do, why don't you go down to the quartermaster and requisition some more Omni-gel clips for your tool."

"But I already have the standard amount sir," Apus protested, and kicked himself for doing so.

Thankfully Raliv kept smiling. "I understand that. But when you get into a shoot match, gel can disappear real quick, understand? Better to have too much extra than not enough."

"But what if the quartermaster doesn't give me more sir?"

"Just tell him that I sent you. He'll understand."

"Okay, should I go now sir?"

Raliv chuckled warmly. "Only if you think you can make it in 2 hours."

The joke went completely over Apus' head. "Yes sir! At once sir!"

2 hours, he repeated to himself. He would make it half way across the ship before he realized how long that was.

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet**

 **Cruiser - _Julivan_ **

Halin had tried to hold off, he really had. But the hammering in his head just wouldn't stop. The boring briefing being led by Captain Ruvon, or as Halin knew him: Captain Rules, didn't help either. Halin hated Ruvon. Not just because the guy was a by-the-book rule sniffer, or just because he wasn't a cabal. No, Halin hate Ruvon because he was the "leash".

The Turian military was prejudiced against biotics. As a result, biotics were grouped together in a division separate from the usual rank and file. They even kept all biotics on a separate ship, away from the normal soldiers.

In his 5 years of service, Halin had never met a Cabal that had achieved a rank higher than lieutenant. As a result, all cabal platoons were commanded by a non-biotic, or a "leash". A 'leash' made sure the sneaky biotics didn't get out of control, and Ruvon had a hold tight enough to make Halin choke.

When the briefing was over, Halin nearly let out a cry of joy. Walking as fast as he could without looking desperate, he made his way back to his quarters and pulled out his personal locker from underneath his bunk. He undid the lock and opened it, revealing all the material possessions he owned.

There were a few cheap ship models, a dozen or so Fornax porn magazines, a bottle of dextro-whiskey, and a set of civilian clothes for shore leave. He pushed that all aside to reveal a small box at the very bottom of the locker. Halin took a quick look around to make sure no one would see, then took it out.

"Hello beautiful."

He opened it, revealing several silver tubes and a clear packet containing blue translucent circular tablets. Halin carefully took pulled out one of the silver tubes and two of the tablets. He unscrewed the top of the sliver tube, held it up to his nostril, and inhaled deeply.

"Oh yeah," his whispers reflected the intense sensations he was feeling. "That's the stuff."

It used to be that Halin took red sand because it made him a better biotic. It still did, but it also let him forget all about his problems, particularly Captain Rules and the fact that soon he would be thrown in a warzone. It didn't matter what they'd been told at the briefing. Halin knew that Krogan were no better than animals.

You didn't negotiate with a rabid animal, you put them down.

Halin shook the thoughts from his head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking, now was the time to just relax. He popped the two tablets into his mouth and felt them melt. He had learned long ago that Hallex was a great chaser for Red Sand. Alone, both induced euphoria. Taken together, Halin could reach new heights of sensations.

Now all he was missing was a woman. Sex when taking a hit was amazing.

"Hey," he heard a pleasant voice call.

Halin looked up to see a pretty female looking down at him. Her name was Sura, she kept looking at him expectantly.

"You gonna share or what?" she asked. Even in his drugged out state, Halin noticed her scratch at her neck and shift her weight from foot to foot. Uneasiness and itchy plates were both early signs of withdrawal.

Halin gave her a smile bigger than intended. "Well hey there, I was just thinking about you and that nice warm mouth of yours."

Sura scowled, which made him chuckle.

"Can't you just let me skip that step this time? It's been a while and I really need some," her voice, though even, had a tinge of desperation.

"Sure, as long as you've got the creds."

Sura snorted. "Please, with the amount we make in this shit outfit?"

"Then I guess you're gonna have to use your mouth." Halin leaned back against his bunk and placed his talons behind his head expectantly.

"You're an asshole," she spat, even as she started to kneel between his legs.

"Mmmhmmm, whatever, just get to work before I lose my high." Halin checked the time and giggled stupidly to himself.

He had a full 1 hour to simply enjoy.

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet**

 **Stealth Corvette - _Shadow Claw -_ Cargo Bay**

Captain Sitora Falari pulled the slide of her Ventis back and released it, resulting in a satisfying _clack._

"AP," her stern voice commanded. Immediately grey holographic glyphs appeared on the side of her heavy pistol, indicating it would now fire armor piercing rounds.

"Incendiary." The glyphs turned red.

"Disruptor." Now blue.

"Cryo." White.

"Shredder." Green.

"Hi-Ex." Yellow.

"Regular." The glyphs disappeared.

Satisfied that her prized pistol was in working condition, she clamped it to her armored thigh and then moved to her primary weapon. While a Ventis was the official sidearm of all Black Watch operatives, it could also be gifted to distinguished officers and individuals. The Kestar-17 on the other hand was a weapon reserved only for Black Watch, partially because the experimental technology it used meant a limited supply was available.

The Kestar-17 had been designed, just after The Battle of The Citadel, to be the perfect weapon for Hierarchy special forces. All modern weapons had the ability to collapse into a more compact form so that it would be easier for the owner to hold. The Kestar took that ability and expanded on it further, both metaphorically and literally.

Sitora held her personal Kestar. It resembled a Phaeston rifle in many ways, which Sitora found she appreciated on an asthetic level. But the Kestar was painted black and was much sleeker than the standard rifle of the Hierarchy's military forces.

She wrapped her talons around the rifle's grip, and it immediately unfolded itself in preparation for combat. At the moment, it was nothing more than an extremely well made assault rifle.

Then she tapped on a green Omni-panel on the weapon's side. The rifle's barrel shortened itself and widened, converting the assault rifle into an combat shotgun.

Sitora aimed her new weapon at several imaginary Krogan, and visualized blowing them apart.

She dropped into a low crouch and tapped the weapon's Omni-panel again. This time her weapon's systems extended the barrel. Sitora now held a light sniper rifle. She placed her eye to the now enlarged scope, and imagined what it would be like to see Urdnot Wreav's ugly face on the other end.

Luckily, she would not have to wait for long. Her squad's mission after all, was to eliminate the Krogan leadership.

 _"Cut off the head, and the body will die."_ General Vakarian's words echoed in her memory.

"Having fun?" a gravely voice pulled Sitora from her thoughts. She took her eye off of her weapon's scope and looked to her left.

"Cairus," she greeted the tall, slightly skinny, male Turian with a nod. His smiling face was decorated with the same black and white paint scheme as her own.

"Ever since we were little, you've playing soldier," he chuckled.

"I _am_ a soldier," she replied.

Her brother grunted in agreement. It was uncommon, but not unheard of for family members to serve in the same units. Between the two of them, she was the elder of the pair by a year, and she was his senior officer by one rank. Still, Sitora would be lying if it didn't sometimes feel like Cairus was the older one. Sitora strongly suspected that Cairus had requested serving in the same squad when they had both been selected for Black Watch, in order to keep an eye on her.

"You know I was in the mess earlier, and I head one of the crew talking about how he'd love to 'claw your chest plates'." Cairus held up two talons on each hand in air quotes, a human gesture that he'd picked up some time in the past.

"And?" she asked.

"I confronted him, and he had an accident."

"Lieutenant Cairus Falari, violence between Hierarchy soldiers is punishable by-"

"I mean he soiled himself," Cairus held up his hands. "Spirits sister! What kind of savage do you take me for?"

Sitora shook her head and forced herself to frown disapprovingly. "What am I going to do with you?"

"What am _I_ going to do with _you_?" Cairus shot back playfully. "You were supposed to be ready an hour ago. Did you even read my briefing notes?"

She shrugged. "I skimmed them."

Cairus sighed and put his hands on his waist. "And you're supposed to be the elder."

"I _am_ the elder, and I've got the rank to prove it."

"Well, we'll see-"

The voice of Admiral Regirus came over the speakers. _"This is Admiral Regirus. The fleet will reach Tuchanka in 30 minutes. I repeat, we are 30 minutes out. All ships are to assume combat readiness!"_

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet**

 **Aboard the diplomatic vessel _Joining Tide_...**

"There it is," said the Asari Spectre, Tela Vasir.

"Pretty as a pile of shit."

Tela cocked a questioning brow at the lavender skinned Asari at her side. "Wasn't your last husband a Krogan?"

"Yeah, and he was ugly as shit too."

"If he was ugly, why'd you marry him?" asked Tela.

"He had a big dick, sort of evened everything thing out."

Tela chuckled at friend's dry sense of humor. A matriarch well into her 8th century, Matriarch Edaria reminded Tela quite a bit of another Matriarch she had known, one with an equally dry sense of humor. It was a shame, in Tela's opinion, that Matriarch Aethya had retired from being a commando to be a bartender on Illium.

But the life of a huntress was not for everyone. Though she had been a Spectre for nearly three centuries now, Tela wondered if she would ever tire of it.

There were times when she thought she very well might. But then, shit like this happened.

Never had she thought the Krogan would try to launch another Goddess damned rebellion. Yet here she was on the _Joining Tide_ , playing bodyguard to the Council's ambassadors, in hopes that this time around they could stop the Krogan before they started.

Officially, the Council had dispatched the Hierarchy's 9th Fleet to escort the _Joining Tide_ and its ambassadors for a diplomatic mission. Unofficially, it was almost a certainty that the Krogan would shoot the minute they saw a single Turian, Asari, Salarian, or Human.

Which was why in addition to the 100 ships of the 9th Fleet, the Hierarchy's 141st Legion had also been sent in to help "keep the peace" on Tuchanka. The Krogan people were a tough and hardy race of sentients, who were no strangers to fighting. But Tela doubted the fractured and selfish clans and warbands of Tuchanka could match the iron discipline of thirty thousand trained Turian soldiers, with mobile armor and air support.

"Captain, we're receiving a transmission from the _Steadfast_ ," said one of the bridge officers.

"Patch them through," ordered Edaria.

 _"Matriach Edaria,"_ Admiral Regirus' voice came over the speakers.

"I'm here admiral, the _Joining Tide_ stands ready to carry out the Council's mission." In a blink, Edaria went from joker to Captain of the _Joining Tide._

 _"Excellent, and what of the ambassadors?"_

"Still prepping for the talks."

Tela heard a hushed sigh through the speaker. _"Understood, tell them that we're beginning to establish our forward operating base on the surface. It should take just a couple hours. Once we've secured a safe perimeter, they will be contacted by General Vakarian on Tuchanka."_

"Understood Admiral Regirus. I will convey your message to the ambassadors. _Joining Tide_ out."

The channel went silent. Edaria turned to Tela expectantly.

"What?" she asked.

"You're the Spectre. You deliver the message."

Tela sighed dramatically. "Fine, but you owe me a drink."

* * *

 **Tuchanka - The Hollows**

There was little enjoyment in The Wrath's life. His destiny had demanded that he forsake personal pursuits and enjoyments in favor of the greater good. But every now and then, he was allowed to indulge in small moments of peace and quiet. Moments where he did not need to think about how he would serve his master next, or of the next mission he'd be sent on.

In these moments he was allowed to simply, be.

Standing alone on the roof of Vaul's Eye, the fortress of the Krogan's sacred city, he was granted a stunning view of The Hollows. He had been told by Wreav, that The Hollows were the closest thing the Krogan had to a holy city. Even after the Genophage and subsequent collapse of the Krogan civilization, none of the warring clans had dared to try to claim The Hollows. To do so was to invite the wrath of all of Tuchanka.

But now that Wreav was the new ruler of Tuchanka, he had said that it was only fitting that he and his clan be allowed to move into Tuchanka's greatest city.

Even after thousands of years of abuse, The Wrath had to admit that The Hollows had held up well. Covering nearly 500 square kilometers in ancient buildings, The Hollows felt like the carcass of some gigantic ancient beast. The Wrath wondered what it might have looked like during the pinnacle of Krogan civilization.

The Krogan in the past used this city as both a ritualistic burial ground and as a shrine to their pantheon of gods. Catacombs beneath the city stretched deep into the planet and were filled with the bones of the dead. Shrines for each of the Krogan gods had been built within the walls.

Being the God of War and leader of the Krogan pantheon, Vaul's Eye sat in the center of the city, serving as one part monastery and one part fortress. It now also served as Wreav's base of operations and house of his throne.

The city was deathly quiet. Not even the wind could be heard, almost as if the planet was holding its breath.

The Wrath took in a deep breath of Tunchanka air. It tasted of stale dust and ancient bones, but soon it would taste of blood and fire.

He sensed the approach of four individuals from behind, but did not turn. His moment to himself was over, it was now time to fulfill his duty.

The approaching group stopped a few meters away.

"My lord," Zhaff began. "The Turian fleet has arrived and is holding position above the atmosphere. They are landing troops."

The Wrath grunted in acknowledgement. He finally turned around to greet the group.

Zhaff and Marshalla had respectfully knelt down on to one knee.

Marshalla had taken it a step further and bowed her heads submissively. Though her power had flourished underneath his tutelage, she remained unsure of herself and somewhat shy. Zhaff on the other hand kept his chin pointed upwards. The Korun Sith was a fiercely talented Force sensitive and warrior, but The Wrath found him to be dangerously arrogant. He suspected that it was a because on Zhaff's homeworld of Haruun Kaal, the entire populace was Force sensitive, and thus Zhaff felt innately superior to others.

Wreav stood behind his two apprentices. The Krogan did not kneel in respect, instead choosing to stand with his arms cross in impatience. The Wrath chose not to acknowledge him yet.

Next to Krogan was a handsome Human male with fair skin, glossy black hair slicked back stylishly, and a clean shaven face. The Wrath recognized him immediately.

 **"General Quinn, you may rise."**

"Thank you my lord."

 **"You as well my apprentices,"** added The Wrath, when they remained kneeling. Wreav let out an audible snort of disgust at their dogged obedience.

"What is your will, master?" Marshalla's voice was incredibly soft compared to those around her.

 **"You two know your assignments. Bring me the Council ambassadors, alive. You will be assisted by Major Pierce and two squads-"**

"We do not need the Imperials to complete our assignment," Zhaff protested. When The Wrath's glaring black eyes rested upon him, the apprentice realized his error.

 **"You will be assisted by Major Pierce,"** The Wrath repeated, more forcefully this time.

Zhaff turned away. "Yes master, as you say master."

 **"Vette will be your pilot,"** The Wrath continued, **"I will not tolerate failure for this mission. The Emperor himself wants this done. Prove that I was right to trust the two of you, or do not return. Understood?"**

"Yes master," they both said.

 **"Good, go then."**

Both apprentices bowed at the waist and then departed. Quinn and Wreav stepped forward to take their place.

 **"General Quinn, what is the status of the Armageddon Corps?"**

"My lord, the soldiers of the 77th Assault "Armageddon" Corps are in place and awaiting battle. As you have instructed, I have strategically placed the men in order to ensure maximum casualties upon the Turian forces. I estimate a minimum of 57.98% enemy casualties within the first hour of fighting, while the 77th Assault Corps only sustains, at most, 12.52% losses."

The Wrath nodded, ever since he'd met Malavai Quinn he had known that the man had a talent for warfare. It was good to see that he had made the correct decision in ensuring that Quinn was promoted quickly up the Imperial ranks to become General of Armageddon Corps.

"That's all well and good for you Imperials, but there's a problem." Wreav pushed his way in front of Quinn and jabbed a meaty finger at The Wrath. "Your soldiers are taking up all good spots and pushing my people to the very front, where there's minimal cover."

"It is for the best," Quinn assured. "The Krogan warriors have physiques and mentalities that make them perfect for front line work. In addition, most of them are armed with weapons better suited for close range. And statistically, our soldiers have a higher hit per shot ratio. Moving the Krogan to the front will result in an increase to their ratio of kills to shots fired and a higher efficiency of ammo usage."

"Don't try to cover it up with your fancy talk! Say it for what it is! You're using my people as cannon fodder!" He turned to The Wrath. "This is not what we agreed upon! I was assured that my people and I would be treated as respected allies! Is this how the Sith treat their allies?"

 _More than you know_ , The Wrath thought.

 **"Quinn, see if you can't accommodate his highness before the battle begins,"** The Wrath ordered.

"Yes my lord," Quinn said after a moment's reluctance.

 **"And you,"** he turned on Wreav. **"Do not question the Sith Empire again, ever."**

Wreav did not respond, but his silence was good enough.

 **"Where are the Turians landing?"**

Quinn answered. "Our spy has informed us that General Castius Vakarian is deploying his forces to the Shroud, and intends to use it as a forward operating base. Broonmark and his Mad Claws have scouted the area around the Shroud and confirmed it."

"Ha! Let the Turian land there! That place is swarming with thresher maws! They'll all be eaten alive!" said Wreav.

"I doubt General Vakarian would make such a costly mistake," Quinn said. "I have read up on his achievements and analyzed his tactics. He is a superb general. I am sure that he is aware of the thresher maw infestation at the Shroud, and has some way to deal with it."

 **"I agree, with Quinn."** The Wrath turned to the general. **"Get me a connection to Broonmark. I would talk to him."**

"Yes my lord."

"And me?" asked Wreav

 **"Gather your Warlords, we shall hold a war council soon. Make sure their blood his hot and full of rage. Today they will spill the blood of Turians."**

* * *

 **Tuchanka - Inside the Shroud...**

General Castius Vakarian stood silently in the Shroud's elevator, his back ramrod straight. His only company for the ride up were the two bodyguards standing at his flanks. Both were former members of Black Watch, wearing heavy blue armor and wielding modified Phaeston rifles.

The elevator ride to the top of the facility was surprisingly fast, only 2 minutes. The doors opened smoothly despite their age. Castius and his bodyguards stepped out into the Shroud's control center, which had already been populated with a number of techs and analysts busy working to restore the systems.

Castius spotted a youngish male Turian with orange face paint directing the work flow.

"Try replacing the wires, it is imperative that we link these systems to our own," he said to an engineer.

"Yes sir," said the engineer before returning to his work.

"I see you got started without me."

The Lieutenant finally realized Castius had arrived, and saluted smartly. "General Vakarian! Sir!"

"At ease Lieutenant Roma."

"Thank you sir. I'm sorry that I didn't notice you earlier sir, I hope you don't mind that I got here before you. I just wanted to make sure that everything was ready for-"

"It's quite alright lieutenant." Castius fought down a smile.

"Yes sir, thank you sir."

The young son of a family friend, Castius made Lieutenant Roma his aide as a favor. Luckily, it turned out that the young male was suitably competent for the role, if a bit over apologetic for doing nothing wrong. In many ways, Roma reminded Castius of Garrus, when he had been younger.

The thought of his estranged son caused Castius's mandibles to twitch in sorrow. He realized that he hadn't seen nor talked to his only son in nearly four years. Castius began to wonder if Garrus still had the Ventis pistol Castius had gifted to him for his graduation. More likely, his son had tossed it away, along with any memories associated with it.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" asked Roma.

Castius collected himself immediately. Now was not the time to be lost in the past, he reminded himself. "Yes lieutenant, I'm fine. Just thinking about what is to come."

"It's a little nerve wracking, isn't it sir?" agreed Roma.

"It is. Which is why we must do everything in our power to make sure things go smoothly and with minimal loss of life. Now, give me a status report."

"Yes sir! We just finished setting a perimeter of sensor beacons around the area sir. Just as you said, the thresher maws seem to be repelled by the signals being emitted by the beacons. They're keeping completely clear of us."

"Excellent. We have enough to do without having to worry about those creatures." In his youth, when he had been but a sergeant, Castius had seen firsthand what the acid of a thresher could do. "What of the deployment of our troops?"

"Colonel Gravial's of the 132nd Mechanized Infantry has managed to fully deploy her 1st Battalion onto the surface sir. The rest of the 132nd and Colonel Raxar's regiment are still waiting in orbit. Not exactly enough space around the Shroud to hold over 30,000 soldiers sir."

"Indeed, Is Colonel Gravial on site?"

"Yes sir. She's overseeing her troops in setting up defenses as we speak. They'll have this area fortified and up to standards in no time."

"Good. Have we found a place to keep the gunships and shuttles?"

"We have general. There's a flat patch of land that turned out perfect for a landing strip. We'll have four squadron's worth of air support when we hit the Krogan sir."

Castius nodded, so far so good. "And what of the Shroud's systems? Did we find what we need?"

"Yes general, if you'll follow me." Roma guided Castius and his bodyguard to the center of the control room where a large round transparent table was located. The lieutenant tapped a talon on a console, and the table came alive, projecting a green 3D image of the Shroud. Roma tapped a few more buttons and the image transformed into a green 3D model of Tuchanka.

"Is it up to date?" asked Castius.

"Yes sir. It seems the Shroud never stopped monitoring Tuchanka. All information about the Krogan and the planet are accurate as of a week ago. We have population numbers, environmental stats, clan distribution, maps, and more. It's a platinum mine of information general."

Castius grunted in agreement. "I suppose we'll have to send a thank you note to those slippery bastards in the STG. You can always count on a Salarian to spy. Then again, I suppose if it weren't for the Salarians, we wouldn't be in this mess to begin with."

"Sir?"

The general wandered to a nearby window that allowed him to look out into the bleak Tuchanka landscape. The planet had been ugly enough from space. Up close, it was much worse. Below them were the bones of the ancient Krogan. Ruins of what must have once been a city stretched as far as the eye could see.

"It's a shame," decided Castius. "They could have been a fine addition to the Citadel."

"Yes sir," said Roma as he moved next to the general.

"There's a lesson in all of this, I'm sure. But we can't waste our time thinking about what could have been. We must focus on the present, and our duty."

"Yes sir. I agree sir." One of the technicians, a female Turian, walked up to Roma and said something. "Sir! We've just restored the Shroud's communications system."

"Excellent. Connect me to the _Joining Tide_ and my command staff. It is time that this operation began." As Castius began to turn away from the window, he caught something in the periphery of his vision. He swiveled back around.

"Sir? Is everything alright?" asked Roma. "Did you see something?"

"I thought..." Just for a moment, Castius had seen a small patch of white in the vast brown and gray of Tuchanka. His eyes lingered on the spot where he had seen it. But it did not reappear.

"Sir?" Roma asked again.

"...it's nothing," Castius decided. "Just a trick of the light."

* * *

Broonmark ducked back into cover behind the ruined wall. The Turian, the one up in the tower,he had looked directly at the Talz warrior. For a moment Broonmark had felt the sharp spike of fear in his chest. His Sith master would not be pleased if he were to be discovered and would cleanse him from the clan for such incompetence.

But when no alarms began to sound and no Turian soldiers came out to investigate, Broonmark knew his cover had been maintained, much to his own relief.

Once again he peeked his massive bulk over the ruined wall and used a pair of macrobinoculars, specially modified for his four eyes, to peer into the Turian base. The majority of the soldiers he saw were helping set up defenses to make the area around the Shroud more defensible. Prefabricated walls were setup to provide cover. Turrets, both manned and automated, were placed at strategic locations. Broonmark even saw a few Turians setting up a perimeter of mines as a trap for any attackers.

More interesting however, were the tall antenna like objects being dug into the dirt at the very edge of the Turian perimeter. Broonmark had wondered what they were at first. But then he had seen a bulge in the ground begin traveling towards the Shroud. The Talz warrior had not been on the planet for very long, but he knew that the moving mound of dirt was a thresher maw, tunneling near the surface toward potential prey.

Broonmark had thought that the thresher would attack. But as it neared one of the antenna like contraptions the thresher had suddenly veered off in the opposite direction. Broonmark knew that this information would be important to his master.

Two Turian soldier had moved out to check the thresher repelling contraption. They were alone, isolated far from the main body of the army, where no one could see them die.

Broonmark felt his claws tingle. He imagined tearing through the armor the Turians wore to protect themselves, and then sinking his claws through the hard carapace like plates of the alien skin. His muscles clenched in anticipation at the very thought of covering his hands with their blue blood.

But no.

The time was not yet right. Soon, he would be able to sate his hunger for bloodshed. But for now, his mission was simply to scout.

"What do you see?" hissed a voice next to him.

Broonmark lowered his macrobinoculars to address the large sandy brown Trandoshan crouched down next to him. The reptilian alien's name was Hakver, in basic, and like Broonmark he had an insatiable need to kill.

"We see many warriors," replied Broonmark.

Hakvar licked his scaly lips. "Do they look strong? Are they worth many points?"

"There are many of them," Broonmark repeated, "enough for all."

Hakvar hissed with delight. "Let us attack now! My blade aches to be slicked with blood!"

"No!" growled Broonmark. "We do as commanded. Time for killing shall come later."

"But-"

"Obey! Or We shall cleanse you from the clan!"

Hakver hissed again and his clawed hands gripped the twin blades at his waist. "Their blood, or yours, does not matter. You are tamed, the Mad Claws require new leadership."

Just as Broonmark was about to draw his own vibroblade and strike down the stupid lizard, his holo-communicator chirped. He pulled it out and pressed a button to accept the incoming transmission. A miniature blueish-gray figure of The Wrath materialized in Broonmark's palm.

"Master," Broonmark greeted him with a bowed head.

Hakvar's earlier blood lust died immediately.

 _ **"Broonmark,"** _ The Wrath spoke, _**"have you finished your scouting mission?"**_

"We were just about to return master. But then Hakvar attempted to usurp our position as leader of Mad Claws."

"I-" The Trandoshan's protests died on his lips. The miniature Wrath formed a pincer with his tiny hand, and Havkar was lifted off the ground by his throat.

 _ **"Is that so? Any other time, I would allow you two to fight it out. After all, the Mad Claws must be led by the strongest. But by challenging Broonmark now, you nearly jeopardized the war effort. I DON'T appreciate that Hakvar."**_

"I...I...didn't..." The Trandoshan gurgled his words.

 ** _"You didn't even think about how I might feel about it, did you? I value savage killers. But I have no use for mindless killers."_ ** The Wrath closed his pincer into a fist, and Hakvar's neck snapped. The body dropped the ground a moment later. _**"Take his head. Return, and show it to the rest of the Mad Claws. Let them know that until the battle is finished, I will not tolerate any infighting."**_

"We understand and obey, master."

 _ **"I await your report Broonmark. Don't keep me waiting."** _ The Wrath's image disappeared.

Broonmark drew his vibroblade and walked over to the Trandoshan's corpse. The planet's many creatures would ensure that the body would never be found. The Talz had been disappointed that he had not been allowed to put down Hakvar himself, but for now, cutting his ugly head off was enough for Broonmark.

* * *

 **The Shroud - Communications Room**

Castius followed Roma to the Shroud's communication's room, located below the tower's control center. The room adhered to the usual Salarian mindset. Economical in its use of space, leaving just enough for around six Salarians standing shoulder to shoulder, or in this case, four Turians wearing combat armor.

Because of the importance of its purpose in the past, the Shroud boasted a top of the line communication's suite for its time. Thankfully what was top of the line back then was not too far off from what was commonly used now. The 141st engineers had managed to replace any out of date components.

Roma tapped a few buttons on a console to open the line.

9 holographic figures, hued orange, appeared in a semi-circle around the room.

To the far left stood Admiral Regirus. Standing next to her were four more Turians.

The first was a massively tall Turian, standing at least 2 meters (6.5 human feet) with black plates and red markings. This was Colonel Raxar, he was Castius's second in command, and had served in the 141st for nearly 30 years as the colonel of the 64th Infantry Regiment.

Second was a male Turian just as tall but noticeably leaner. His plates were a dull brown and he wore his pure white markings in a spotted pattern. Major Sancas was the commander of the 197th Field Artillery Battalion, and was relatively new to his position, having only been promoted a year ago after his predecessor had retired.

Third was Major Brucion, a plain looking Turian of average height, and the barefaced commander of the 255th Heavy Armor Battalion. He was a self-proclaimed 'patriot' of the Turian people. Castius preferred to call him what he really was: a supremacist. Castius did not care about the personal beliefs of his men, but he had to admit that Brucion's views sometimes got underneath his plates.

Last was a female Turian, Wing Captain Sylcus, commander of the 9th fleet's fighter complement. Sylcus was very laid back, especially compared to the always business attitude of the Admiral. Castius personally thought her a bit arrogant, but given her service record he had to admit that she had some right to be, at the very least, proud.

Standing on the other half of the room were the Council's chosen ambassadors, four in total, each representing a member of the council.

Castius and Roma gave a Turian salute to their fellows in the 141st, and a polite nod toward the ambassadors.

"Where is Colonel Gravial?" asked Raxar, his voice was deep and heavy, even for a Turian.

"Colonel Gravial is currently seeing the setup of operations around the Shroud," answered Castius. "I will update her later. For now, we must plan for what is to come."

"And what is to come general?" asked Quentius. The Turian ambassador crossed his arms. "Please tell us, since you have so far kept my colleagues and I out of the loop of your invasion plan."

"Quentius, please." Ambassador Esheel, the Salarian representative, wore a dull grey robe that was almost painful in its simplicity. "General Castius, my colleague is simply trying to remind you that though your men and the 9th fleet have orders to occupy the planet, this is first and foremost, a mission of diplomacy."

In the corner of his eye, Castius saw Admiral Regirus roll her eyes. He fought to not do the same.

"That may be so Ambassador Esheel. However, I must insist that my men be the first to make contact with the Krogan. Given their history, it would in my opinion, be the safest and most logical plan of action."

"Agreed, the Krogan only understand strength. We must show it to them if we hope to talk to them," said Regirus.

"I must concur with the General and Admiral," said Ambassador Irissa. The Asari wore a low cut dress made of shimmering red fabric, embroidered in gold with what looked to be the stylized waves of an ocean. "It would be best to approach the Krogan after they have been shown that we are extending our hand out of mercy, rather than out of desperation."

"We're here to talk them down! Not intimidate them!" Quentius protested.

"In my hundreds of years of experience. For Krogan, the two are one in the same."

"Well we aren't Krogan!"

"That much is clear," said Ambassador Udina. The middle-aged Human male wore a cream colored suite with an orange tie. "But we are dealing with Krogan. Perhaps things would go smoother if we were to...speak their language, per say?"

"Ambassadors, if I may." All eyes turned to Castius. "Allow me to first purpose my strategy. Then you may decide if it is good enough for your mission of peace."

The ambassadors exchanged looks, then all nodded.

"Very well general, proceed," said Irissa.

Castius silently thanked the Spirits. If their bickering had gone on any longer, he would have simply left and ordered the operation to go ahead, the consequences be damned.

* * *

 **Tuchanka - The Hollows**

The Wrath's war council had gathered in the Urdnot throne room, where now a large holo-table resided in front of the throne. Wreav sat in his throne, four large, grizzled looking Krogan guards at his side.

Across from the Krogan king, The Wrath stood alone.

The divide between the Krogan and their Imperial allies was quite apparent. The commanders of the Imperial forces stood together on one side of the table, while Wreav's Krogan warlords occupied the space opposite to them. The warlords were obviously distrustful of outsiders, and the Imperials thought the Krogan barbaric savages.

Thankfully, the mutual dislike had amounted to little more than reproachful glares, so far at least.

The Wrath glanced at the Imperial side of the table and was glad to see that at the very least, Quinn appeared to be maintaining a professional attitude. His handsome face was impassive, even as some of the Krogan glared menacingly. But Quinn's second in command, a male Devaronian with yellowish-green skin named Colonel Zikato, was glaring right back at the Krogan with his devilish red eyes.

A Krogran with a brown crest, Nok Gram the new warlord of Clan Nok, hefted his massive cleaver and placed it on the table for all to see. In response Major Bahl, a rather striking female human with blue hair, commander of Armageddon Corps' walker regiment, drifted her hand precariously close to the blaster pistol hanging from her waist.

Nakmor Hurd, an older Krogan with a gray crest, 'checked' his shoulder-fired chain gun, showing to everyone how quickly the six barrels could spin. Darth Medechas, representative of the Sith attached to the Armageddon Corps, countered by causing a few sparks of Force Lightning to manifest between his fingers.

"How much longer must we wait?" Wreav's voice broke the tense silence.

 **"As long as we have to,"** replied The Wrath. **"Broonmark will not fail me, if he is late, it is because he must be."**

Wreav seemed to want to argue more, but a glare from The Wrath silenced any further words. Instead the Krogan monarch sat back in his throne and crossed his arms in silent menace.

Finally a chirp came from the holo-table.

"Lord Wrath, we have an incoming transmission," announced Quinn.

 **"Patch it through."**

Quinn pressed a button, and a blue-gray hologram of the Talz warrior Broonmark appeared in the center of the table. Flanking Broonmark was a tall gray haired Wookiee and a massive red skinned Houk.

 _"Master,"_ Broonmark trilled and knelt down respectfully toward The Wrath. The Wookiee and Houk beside him did the same.

 **"Broonmark, report. What is the status of the enemy army?"**

 _"It is as you said master. The enemy clan is large and vast. We have seen that they are well equipped for an invasion."_

Darth Medechas let out a chuckle. "So much for the, 'diplomatic mission' of the Council."

 _"We have seen soldiers, armored vehicles, tanks, and even flying machines,"_ continued Broonmark. _"But though the enemy clan's forces are many, they are still too few."_

"That thing isn't making any sense. How can there be many but too few?" asked Nok Gram.

 **"Explain Broonmark."**

 _"We have counted the enemy clan's forces. There are not enough to hold the planet. Even the Krogan by themselves would have outnumbered the amount of enemies gathered at the Shroud."_

The Wrath looked to his general. **"Quinn, what is your assessment?"**

"What Broonmark is seeing is likely just the vanguard my lord. General Vakarian is well known for his blitz tactics. The forces he has gathered on the ground now will likely be used for a fast precision strike at a key location. Once a beachhead is established, the rest of Castius's forces will be deployed from orbit via troop transports."

"Casualties made by flak and artillery would be kept to a minimum that way," added Colonel Zikato, as he scratched his goatee. "The first wave will likely be made up of heavy troops and armored vehicles. The sort that knows how to take a beating, and break through enemy lines."

"Ha! They're tanks will be no threat," said Chieftain Renk Tobal, a brown crested Krogan wearing bright orange armor and a pair of welding goggles.

"I'm in agreement," said Major Bahl, "our walkers will be more than a match for whatever vehicles the Turians might throw at us."

"We should not underestimate them. Turian armor is famous for being a combination of fast, maneuverable, and durable," warned Quinn. "Our biggest advantage will be surprise. I believe that our artillery can wipe out the enemy's armored units from afar, before they can ever reach the city."

"Ha? What's the matter? Afraid of getting blood on your nice clean uniforms?" asked Weryloc Ghuul.

Quinn scowled. The Krogan's mannerism's and insults dredged up memories of early years working with the now Major Pierce. He too had liked to insult Quinn. Just as he had back then, Quinn refused to take the bait.

"I'm simply outlining the most effective means of winning the battle," Quinn said evenly.

"You're a coward," Ghuul continued to prod.

"Intelligence doe not indicate a lack of courage."

"You wouldn't last a single day in the Bad Lands."

"I believe the smarter thing to do would be to simply avoid the Bad Lands entirely, no?"

"Ha! Just like I said: a coward, trying to avoid the hard path."

"Enough!" Wreav's voice boomed. "You will remain respectful towards our allies Weryloc, or I will have your waggling tongue removed."

"Of course, my _king_ ," the Weryloc Chieftain did not even try to hide his sarcasm.

 **"Do you have a problem with my general?"** asked The Wrath.

Weryloc seemed startled. "I...no, no of course not."

 **"Good, try to keep it that way."**

The rest of the gathered chieftains noticeably edged away from Ghuul. All of them had seen the holo-recording of The Wrath single-handedly massacring Clan Hokar and executing Hokar Vark. The Krogan respected strength above all else, The Wrath's display had earned him that and more.

It had earned him their fear.

This did not go unnoticed by Wreav, who Weryloc had had no problem disrespecting openly. Jealousy was starting to brew within the _King_ of Tuchanka, a jealousy that felt disturbingly familiar.

 _First Wrex's shadow, and now his, will I ever escape?_ Wreav's thoughts were interrupted by the appearance of an Imperial officer walking up behind Quinn and whispering something to the general.

"It seems that our spy within the invasion force has managed to provide us with some crucial intelligence," announced Quinn.

A shared look of surprise spread through the gathered Krogan chieftains.

"You have a spy among the Turians?" asked Nakmor Hurd.

Darth Medechas smiled evily. "We have spies everywhere."

* * *

 **Aboard the _Steadfast..._**

 _"That went better than I had expected,"_ said the holographic projection of General Vakarian.

Kivara had to agree. It had taken two whole, _brutal_ , hours to explain the plan to the four ambassadors, three of which had absolutely no understanding of military strategy. But in the end they had conceded that it was a good plan, and was the most likely to bring about the best results.

It had probably helped that the general had constantly emphasized to the ambassadors that by sending the troops in first, _their_ safety would be all but guaranteed. It hadn't been enough for everyone though. Ambassador Quentius had been particularly vocal in stating his opinion that a show of force would only make things worse.

"I wanted to strangle Quentius the entire time," she admitted.

 _"He does seem a bit naive, doesn't he?"_

Kivara snorted. That was putting it kindly, personally she would have used another word: _ignorant_. Of all the ambassadors, the Turian ambassador had been the most against leading with military action. It had taken every shred of discipline and self-control Kivara had not to order the _Steadfast_ to fire on the _Joining Tide_ and free herself of the meddling of politicians.

She knew his type. Born into a prominent family, given everything he ever needed, promoted through connections and favors. He hadn't _earned_ anything, and yet he had everything. It wasn't fair.

"Quentius is going to be a problem, I just know it," she said, channeling her hidden aggression.

 _"He's just fighting for what he believes in. No one can blame him for that."_

"I can and I will. Especially when it gets in the way of completing my mission."

 _"Our mission."_

"...our mission, or course."

 _"I understand where you're coming from. But the truth is the galaxy needs politicians like Quentius, one's whose first instinct is to come up with a non-violent solution. Otherwise it'd be far too easy for dictators to rise."_

"It's not the politicians who bring down dictators General Vakarian. Soldiers do that. We do that."

 _"All Turian politicians were once soldiers at some point. They're not nearly as clueless as you might think Admiral Regirus. And always remember, it is the politicians who lead the people. Not the soldiers. There is a reason for that."_

"...as you say, General."

A voice from Vakarian's side informed them both that the first phase of the general's plan was about to commence.

 _"I must go and see to my forces,"_ he said. _"I shall keep you updated on the situation. If the Krogan resist, be ready to provide support."_

"Of course. For the Hierarchy." She saluted.

 _"For the Hierarchy."_ He returned the salute and the hologram disappeared.

"Fool," Kivara spat, once she was alone.

She had made a mistake. She had thought that, like her, General Vakarian would be unsympathetic to the whining of the ambassadors. She had thought that they were of one mind in ignoring their protests. In truth, it seemed that the general would be as much of a problem as that idiot Quentius.

But there was little she could do about it now. The dice had been cast, and Kivara had a feeling that their results would not be in her favor. She could feel her chance at glory slipping away. It wasn't fair! She had been chosen for this mission! She had been given the opportunity to be forever memorialized in the annals of her people's history.

Now it was all being destroyed by an idealistic pencil pusher and an overly sympathetic general, who was supposed to be on _her_ side.

Kivara wanted to stamp her foot like a petulant child, but reined herself in. That was behavior unbecoming of an Admiral.

It wasn't over yet. There was still one last factor she knew she could rely on: the Krogan. The ambassador and the general might be doing everything in their power to achieve a peaceful resolution, but she was quite sure that the Krogan would not be as cooperative.

* * *

 **Tuchanka - 10 Kilometers from The Hollows**

"This is a dumb idea," muttered Warrant Officer Jurin Phomis.

"Say that a little louder Jurin, I don't think the general can hear you," said the co-pilot of his Mantis gunship, Warrant Officer Coris.

Jurin delivered a solid, yet playful kick to the back of Coris's chair. "Go prong yourself."

"Considering how beautiful I am, I think I will," he replied.

 _"Zeller Seven-Twelve, you know everyone can all hear you, right?"_ asked the voice of Jurin's friend, Lieutenant Tandios, over the squadron's TAC-com.

"Copy Zeller Seven-One. Just doing some bonding."

 _"Bond later. Keep your eyes on your scopes. Command says that the Krogans don't have AA guns anymore thanks to a Spectre. But let's do this real careful just in case."_

"Roger Zeller Seven-One. If we see anything, you'll be the first I let know."

 _"Roger Zeller Seven-Twelve. That's good to know."_

Jurin switched off his mic. "I still think this is a dumb idea."

"You'd better keep that to yourself," said Coris.

"You can't seriously not think this isn't a dumb idea."

"Doesn't matter what I think. General Vakarian's the one calling the shots."

"Yeah well, the general should remember these are Krogan we're dealing with. When has a Krogan ever decided that they wanted to 'talk' things out?"

"Probably never," admitted Coris. "But not shooting first is what makes us different from them, right?"

Jurin couldn't argue with that. "Right."

The task of the 7th squadron, codenamed: Zeller Seven, was fairly simple, if a bit strange. Their orders were to fly ahead of the main occupation force as a warning to the Krogan. Once they reached the Krogan cities, compounds, and camps, they would begin playing a message from their gunships external speakers.

The message would instruct the Krogan to lay down their arms and surrender to Citadel law. The hope was that upon seeing Turian aircraft fill their skies, the big lizards would lose their drive to fight, and realize that surrender was the better option.

In truth, despite his complaints, Jurin had to admit that this course of action sat better with him than doing a preemptive strafing run, as some of the other pilots had wanted to do. Too often he found, his people forgot that not all Krogan were the massive hulking warmongering beasts that were always the bad guys in movies. They had women too, and kids.

Jurin didn't how Krogan structured the living quarters of their clan on Tuchanka. But he didn't want to take the chance that his anti-infantry missiles might accidentally blow up a Krogan daycare or something.

But still...trying to talk to them? Might as well try to convince a Volus to go on a diet.

 _"We're two klicks out from the Hollows,"_ announced Tandios. _"All Zellers Sevens check in."_

 _"Zeller Seven-Two, ready."_

 _"Zeller Seven-Three, ready."_

 _"Zeller Seven-Four, ready."_

The pattern continued till it was Jurin's turn. "Zeller Seven-Twelve, ready."

 _"Zeller Seven-Thirteen, ready."_

Once all twenty members of Zeller Seven had checked, Lieutenant Thandios contacted command.

 _"This is Zeller Seven-One to the Shroud. We're entering the airspace of the Hollows. I see movement on the ground through my sensors, but can't eyeball any of it."_

 _"Have they shot at any of you?"_ asked the voice of the general.

 _"Negative sir. So far, so good."_

 _"Well then, we may be in luck. Proceed as planned. If the locals fire upon you, you are authorized to retaliate with deadly force. But that is only if they fire first. Do you understand Zeller Seven-One?"_

* * *

"Copy sir. We'll play nice as long as they do."

Inside the cockpit of Zeller Seven-One, Tandios's co-pilot and lover chuckled.

"That smart ass attitude is going to get you in trouble some day," she said, off the Tac-COM.

Tandios ignored her. "Squad, we are cleared to proceed. Split off to your designated areas and start playing the music."

 _"Copy that Zeller Seven-One, have fun out there."_

Twenty confirming green blips appeared in Tandios's AR, and the other gunships flew off.

"Guess we should get to our area," said Pilra.

Zeller Seven-One dived down to an elevation of 45 meters, managing to stay just above the rooftops of the sacred Krogan city. Tandios chanced a look out through the cockpit window and managed to spot a few Krogan staring dumbly up at them from streets and windows.

"We've gathered an audience," Pilra noted as she brought the gunship to a halt. "Any missile locks yet?"

"Nope. Guess that means we can start the music."

* * *

From speakers of every gunship above the Hollows, the voice of Councilor Tevos began to speak. The Asari Councilor had been chosen as the voice of the message, due to the fact that of all the Council species, the Asari had the least to do with the Genophage.

 _"Krogan of Tuchaka. I am Tevos of the Citadel Council."_

 _"For a thousand years, the Krogan and the Citadel have lived in resentment of each other. A resentment born of the scars of the Rebellions. Now, those scars threaten to once again tear apart and plunge our galaxy into an era of violence."_

 _"The fleet that the Council has sent to your world, doe not come in the name of war, but in the name of peace. How many generations of Krogan were lost because of the rebellions? How many generations of Turians, Salarians, and Asari were lost? How many atrocities were committed...on both sides? Never again, I say."_

 _"We send this delegation now, in hopes that the Krogan people will find it within themselves to work for a better peace. A peace where the hatred born from the Krogan rebellions has no hold over any of us. The Council asks that the leaders of the Krogan people hear out our ambassadors. The Council and the whole of the Citadel are committed to righting the wrongs of a 1000 years ago."_

 _"Let us work together, to build a better future for all of us. One where the Krogan people flourish, and are part of the galactic community."_

* * *

 **The Shroud**

Castius leaned over the holographic display, like a god attempting to shield the small holographic miniatures of his soldiers from harm. The control room was completely silent save for the rhythmic electronic beats of the various analysis instruments inside of it.

The general's eyes remained fixed on the tiny gunships flying over the holographic Krogan city. But every now and then he glanced back at the armored convoy making its way to the city via the ancient streets. A total of 120 APCs, carrying around 2000 Turian soldiers, with an escort of 50 IFVs and 30 tanks would be in the first wave to hit the city.

What those soldier and vehicles would do once they reached the city depended on the response of the local populace to Councilor Tevos's words. If, with the help of the Spirits, the Krogan remained non-hostile, the first wave would simply occupy the city. But if the Krogan attacked, the first wave's job would be to secure a beachhead, codenamed: Talon One, to make an opening for the second wave and to allow a safe landing area for reinforcements from orbit.

"First wave is 4 kilometers out from the city general," said Lieutenant Roma.

Castius nodded, but did not respond. He kept watching the gunships, counting them to make sure there were still 20 in the air. So far the Krogan had not made any hostile moves. But the day was still young, and a feeling in Castius's gut told him that before it was over, Turian blood would stain the soil.

* * *

 _"-lost because of the rebellions? How many generations of Turians, Salarians, and Asari were lost? How many atrocities..."_

From the fifth story of one of the many ruined buildings that made up the Hollows, The Wrath watched the gunships their message of peace. Peace. The fact that the Asari Councilor thought that her words along could accomplish something a elusive as peace was laughable to him. Had he been alone, The Wrath might have uncharacteristically let out a hearty belly laugh. But behind him, Wreav watched as well, though he did so from the center of the room where several camera drones circled him and his two bodyguards.

 **"Tevos is quite the orator,"** commented The Wrath. **"Are you ready to compete?"**

Wreav simply replied with a grunt. A green skinned Mirialan, wearing the uniform of the Imperial propaganda division, activated several lights that illuminated the Krogan king.

"We're ready to begin the broadcast when you give the order Lord Wrath," said the Imperial technician controlling the drones.

 **"Then we can finally begin."** With a casual haste, The Wrath raised his wrist-communicator to the mouth of his mask. **"Wrath to General Quinn."**

 _"Quinn here. My lord?"_

 **"Open fire."**

* * *

The alarms inside the cockpit of Zeller Seven-Twelve screeched. Jurin's eyes immediately dropped down to his dashboard. "Multiple missiles locks from the ground! Evasive! Now!"

Coris jerked on the flight stick, but it was already too late.

Two missiles streaked up from the city, using homing technology far more advanced than what the Turians had expected. The first missile curved and hit Zeller Seven-Twelve in the tail, and sent it into a gut churning downward spiral.

"We're hit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!"

"I'm losing her!" Coris viciously fought the controls. Then the second missile hit.

"We've lost our tail!" announced Jurin. The city below began to grow closer and closer. "We're going down!"

* * *

 **The Shroud**

Suddenly every eye in the control center was on the hologram miniature of Zeller Seven-Twelve spiral out of control. Only Castius maintained independence from the spellbinding tragedy unfolding on the table.

"Track their position!" When no one responded, he added: "NOW!"

"Yes sir!"

* * *

 _"This is Zeller Seven-Twelve! We have lost control and are going down!"_

"No! Eject! Eject!" Tandios desperately searched through the cockpit window for Zeller Seven-Twelve.

"...Jurin," Pilra's voice was filled with barely contained horror.

 _"Systems are dead! We're going to crash in the Hollows! I repeat! This is Zeller Seven-Twelve going-"_

The line went dead, and alarms began to screech inside their own cockpit.

"Missile locks!" The second the words left Tandos's mouth, he saw a plume of smoke in the streets below. Pilra immediately threw the gunship into evasive maneuvers.

"This is Zeller Seven-One! We're under fire! Locals are hostile! I repeat! The Krogan are attacking!"

* * *

 **3 Kilometers from The Hollows**

Crowded into an APC with the rest of his squad, Sergeant Tiberius checked his Phaeston rifle one final time. It took every ounce of discipline installed in him by his training to not let his impatience show. It didn't help that Councilor Tevos's prerecorded message was broadcasted to the entire legion.

 _"-the Krogan and the Citadel have live..."_

Tiberius was doing his his best to tune it out, when he heard the first shell hit.

"SPIRITS!" Private Simdus cried out as she saw the APC behind them disappear in a geyser of fire and dirt.

 _"Incoming artillery fire!"_ came Colonel Graviel's voice over the speaker. _"All units! Double time to Talon One! Now! No-"_

At the same time, Tiberius heard the deafening strike of another artillery shell.

"SHIT!" screamed the driver.

Lieutenant Naevra tore off her seat belt and ran up to the driver. "What the hells happened?"

"The Colonel's APC just got torn up! We've got to turn back!"

"Hold the course! We've got to reach Talon One, or there will be nowhere for the second wave to come in!"

Through the armored wall of the transport, Tiberius heard more artillery shells rain down around them. How close were they? Had they been zeroed in by the Krogan?

"Lieutenant! Get back in your seat!" he shouted, but was ignored.

"Are you crazy? We've got to get out of here! I'm turning us around!"

Lieutenant Naevra's pistol was up in an instant and pressed against the driver' head. "I said hold the course!"

"Spirits! You're out of your mind!"

"Either die doing your mission or die a traitor! Your choice!"

"Fuck! Fuck! Fine!" the driver relented, but Naevra did not pull away her pistol.

"Sergeant! Get the men ready!" She shouted as another near miss rocked the transport. That one had felt much closer than the last one.

Sitting to his right, Corporal Dalivin was fervently uttering prayers to the Spirits. Just beside him Private Bellicus was gripping the restraints of his seat so hard Tiberius could hear the strain. Private Simdus sitting across from him was fiddling with the safety on her rifle.

"Simdus! Cut that shit out! You want your weapon to go off in here?"

"No sergeant!"

"Damn right you don't! Now-!"

The rest of Tiberius's words were lost. The entire APC bucked and rolled as a deafening clap of thunder filled the compartment. He caught a glimpse of Lieutenant Naevra flying back from the driver's seat and landing on the floor.

Tiberius fought against the sheer terror gripping his heart. To his shame, he could not stop himself form closing his eyes.

"Falia," he whispered so quietly, that only he could hear it.

* * *

 _"Come back soon papa_."

* * *

When Tiberius finally reopened his eyes, he found Lieutenant Naevra looming over him. Her mouth was moving but her words seemed to come from far away.

"What?" he shouted, and found he could not even hear himself.

"...said we need to get moving!" Naevra's words finally rushed into his ears, as did whistle of more incoming artillery.

Tiberius's training immediately took over. He unlocked himself from his seat and proceeded to help Corporal Davlin next.

"Sound off!" he ordered.

Several pained replies came back.

"You two, with me! Sergeant, get the rest of the squad up and ready!" ordered Naevra as she took Simdus and Bellicus through the hole where the driver had once sat.

"Come on you fucking nest bodies! The APC is down! We've got to leg it the rest of the way!"

* * *

 **The Shroud**

"What the hells is hitting First Wave?" demanded Castius.

"Artillery from The Hollows sir!"

"I can see that! Where the hells did it come from!? Someone get me eyes on it!"

"Zeller Seven! Are any of you still up?!" asked Lieutenant Roma.

There was a crackle of static. _"This is Zeller Seven-One! We're still up in the air! But we've got to bug out soon! These Krogan have **a lot** of anti-air missiles!"_

"Negative Zeller Seven-One! First Wave is taking heavy casualties from artillery coming from the Hollows! We need eyes on that artillery now!"

 _"You've got to be kidding me!"_

Castius let the remark slide. No one had expected this. The Krogan weren't supposed to have this level of hardware. They'd come to the planet expecting the local populace to be armed with antique firearms, outdated armor, and maybe a few old vehicles. Instead his men were being torn up by accurate artillery barrages and missile launchers using homing technology.

"Zeller Seven-One, this is General Castius, do you read?"

 _"I read sir!"_

"I'd like nothing better than to order you and your squadron out of there. But right now you're the best chance we've got to take out the artillery that's tearing apart First Wave. I need you to do this!"

A moment of silence passed before: _"Damn it, alright sir! Zeller Seven-One to all remaining members of Zeller Seven. We have a new mission: search and destroy. Let's find that artillery and take it out!"_

Castius nodded with satisfaction. "Get me Colonel Graviel!"

 _"Sir!"_ a voice not belonging to Graviel came over the line. Castius recognized it.

"Major Epimas? Where's Colonel Graviel?"

 _"She's gone! Shit!"_ The sound of screaming Turians and far off explosions filled the line for a moment. _"Her APC got hit early! Almost half our transports are gone! We've already suffered 35% casualties, and we have no less than 500 soldiers on the ground without transport!"_

The general uttered a quiet curse. 35% was at least 700 dead already.

"How far out from Talon One are they?" Castius asked.

"Based on Epimas's transmission, he is here. A full five kilometers from Talon One." Roma pointed to a section on the map.

Castius cursed. "There's no cover between them and Talon One. They'll never make it unless the pressure is taken off of them. Major Epimas?"

 _"General Vakarian?"_

"How much of your escort was hit?"

 _"They're at aboutGET DOWN!"_ More screams and more explosions.

"Major?!"

 _"They're at about 70 percent strength sir! Orders?"_

"Have the escort move ahead of your men as a vanguard to draw the enemy fire. Just hold out a little longer, we've got air assets trying to eliminate the Krogan artillery."

 _"Yes sir!"_

Castius turned to the communications officer. "Contact the Second Wave. Tell Captain Sel'i to double time it!"

"Sir! We're receiving a transmission. Someone is broadcasting on all channels."

Roma's mandibles noticeably flared in the Turian equivalent of a frown. "The Krogan?"

"Unsure Lieutenant, but we'll try to pin down the source."

"Patch it through in the mean time," Castius ordered.

The technician did so, and the massive form of Urdnot Wreav appeared above the tactical map.

* * *

Unlike Tevos, Wreav spoke in a deep booming baritone, filled with passion and heat.

 _"My people...sons and daughters of Tuchanka. For too long have we been bowed. For too long have we kneeled to the will of the dishonorable Turians, the underhanded Salarians, and the scheming Asari. The history of our ancestors is one of proud conquers! Lords of war! The galaxy itself trembled the day we first reached the stars!"_

 _"But the ancients of old would weep if they could see the state of their children! A generation of mercenaries and thugs! A generation that has accepted their death!_ _No more I say! No more!_ _I will not allow my people to simply fade away into the past! We will not be forgotten!"_

 _"When our children's children are born, they will read the history of our days, written in the blood of our enemies! They will know, how we rose up against the vile aliens who dared to poison the air of Tuchanka! They will know, how we fought for the very of the existence of the Krogan! They will know, that for the crimes of aborting the future of OUR PEOPLE, that we unleashed a vengeance so terrible, that generations of Turians, Salarians, and Asari yet unborn, cried out in fear!"_

* * *

Riding in the assistant driver seat of a V2-Xantros heavy tank, nicknamed by the crew: _War Tomb_ , Apus had felt quite safe. Why wouldn't he when there was 3 inches of ship-grade alloy armor between him and the outside world.

Then the artillery had started raining down, and through a screen he watched as those around him were consumed under a storm of fire. He saw an T4-Rano IFV, part of the escort for the First Wave, take a direct hit from an incoming shell. The entire vehicle was ripped apart, its occupants vaporized instantly.

"Orders just came in!" announced Sergeant Hyber over _War Tomb's_ speak system. "Escort force is taking point! We're gonna be the vanguard, and help clear a path for the infantry! Corporal Raliv!"

"Sir!" said Raliv, War Tomb's main driver.

"Put this heap into full throttle! Turians are dying out there!"

"Sir yes sir!"

"Private Caesis!"

"War Tomb ready to give the lizards hell sir!" said Caesis. Apus had been surprised to learn that War Tomb's main gunner was a female.

"Private Quic!"

"Systems and engine are good sir!" answered the tank's loader and engineer.

"Private Kilus! You ready on the turret?"

"Yes sir!" Apus replied.

"Good! Raliv! Stay in formation with the rest of the escort!"

Apus silently prayed to the Spirits of Palevan for safety.

"INCOMING!" Even through the machinery and armor, Apus could feel the shockwaves in his bones as artillery beyond his sight pounded the advancing group of vehicles. He hated this. He hated the enemy for striking from far away, from a distance where they could do nothing about it. He hated that they had weapons that made the near impervious armor of _War Tomb_ basically useless.

At that moment, Apus wanted nothing more than to find the crews running the artillery, and tear them apart with his bare hands.

That desire only rose as he saw a fellow Xantros take a direct hit. For a moment it continued to roll on, and Apus felt his hope return. But then it started to slow, and eventually came to a complete stop.

"Damn them! They got Battle Bug!" announced Hyber.

"Just half a klick to Talon One!" said Raliv.

"Then we're in range!" Though he did not see it, Apus knew that the sergeant was bringing down the tank's scope.

* * *

 _"As I speak, the enemy attacks our most sacred of ancient cities, seeking to deliver a final blow to our people. To annihilate what little remains of our civilization."_

 _"THEY ARE WELCOME TO TRY!"_

* * *

"I see them!" said Hyber, spotting several Krogan warriors who had taken cover inside the remains of an ancient ship. One was leveling an old over-the-shoulder rocket launcher.

"Caesis! Let'em have it!" screamed Hyber.

"Firing!" _War Tomb's_ main gun bellowed, and Hyber got to watch as the Krogan and their cover evaporated in a cloud of dust and smoke.

"Good effect! Target eliminated!"

"Hells yeah! Find me something else to shoot sarge!"

Hyber immediately set to the task of spotting more targets. A tower holding a heavy machinegun team. A pair of rocket launchers being fired from the roof of a two story building. An ancient anti-tank gun, crewed by a trio of Krogan, that managed to gut an IFV before being taken out.

Other tanks in the impromptu armored vanguard soon opened fire as well. The Turians were eager to repay the Krogan for the blood that had already been spilled. Credit where it was due, even under the harrowing barrage of tank fire and heavy accelerator rounds, the Krogan fought back viciously.

Even when they had become close enough to the city to no longer be threatened by artillery, more than a few IFVs and tanks in the vanguard were destroyed by rockets and anti-armor guns. But soon, Hyber had the pleasure of watching the Krogan defenders flee through his periscope.

"We've got them on the run!"

"That's right you dumb lizards! Show me your asses!" hooted Caesis as she fired at the retreating Krogan.

* * *

"Major!" Epimas swiveled in his cover to face a breathless Lieutenant Naevra. She slid to join him in hiding behind the burning metal carcass of a heavy tank.

"Lieutenant? Any news on our vanguard?"

"The plan worked sir! Talon One has been established! We have our beach head!"

Nearby soldiers close enough to hear let out a roaring cheer. Epimas allowed himself a breath of relief, and nodded solemnly.

"Excellent! Spread the word for all remaining forces to double time our advance, it won't take long for the Krogan to counter attack."

"Yes sir!" Naevra saluted quickly before rushing off to carry out the orders. Epimas turned to his communications officer.

"Contact the general! Tell him to send in the second wave immediately! We need those reinforcements if we're going to-"

"Sir! Transmission from the vanguard!"

* * *

 _"RUN CITADEL DOGS! COME AND FACE THE FURY OF THE CHILDREN OF TUCHANKA! COME AND SEE WHAT YOUR SINS HAVE WROUGHT! COME AND SEE THE MONSTERS YOU HAVE UNLEASHED!"_

* * *

"FIRE! FIRE! FIRE!"

"What in the name of the Spirits is that?!"

"JUST FIRE!" ordered Hyber, as he had no answer for the gunner.

 _War Tomb_ and the rest of the vanguard force had just begun to establish a perimeter for the tailing infantry. Then the Krogan had struck back with what Hyber could only describe as: a walking tank! There was no other way to describe it. The vehicle looked like a large head moving itself using a pair of reverse-knee legs.

At first, Hyber had thought it top heavy and silly looking. He figured that a single shot would be enough to knock the unconventional vehicle over.

Then the walker had opened fire with its nose gun. Instead of accelerator rounds, it had spat out red bolts of energy. Hyber watched in horror as a fellow Xantros tank was torn apart with just a few shots. Then the rack on top of the 'head' had unleashed a salvo of missiles that destroyed two IFVs.

"Raliv! Keep us moving! Swing us to its left flank!" ordered Hyber. To be stationary was to die. "Caesis! Why aren't you firing!"

"It's moving around a lot, alright?! It's not that fucking easy!"

A Xantros tank Hyber recognized as _Battle Oath_ fired its main cannon. The heavy round impacted the side of the walker's head, causing it to stumble back. Amazingly however, it remained upright and proceeded to fire a trio of energy bolts at _Battle Oath_ , destroying the tank.

"Spirits of spite! Where the hells did the Krogan get heavy energy weapons?!" demanded Kilus, the crew's newest member. Hyber could hear the edge of panic in the young Turian's voice. Hells, it was in his own voice as well. Those energy weapons had gone through armor like it was made of paper.

"Caesis! Come on!"

"Firing!" _War Tomb_ belched out a heavy round. But just like _Battle Oath_ before it, the round rocked the walker onto its back foot, and did little else.

"Shit!" cursed Caesis.

"Hold on!" Hyber took a closer look through his scope, and saw that the walker's armor had been damaged. "The thing is bleeding! We got to hit it again! Caesis!"

"Firing!" Another round thundered out from _War Tomb's_ main cannon...and missed.

The walker had stepped out of the way at the last moment. It then turned squarely towards _War Tomb._

"We've got it's attention!" The walker fired its nose cannon. But Raliv threw _War Tomb_ into a turn at the last second, allowing the bolts of energy to only graze the side of the armor.

"Good driving Raliv! Quic! What's the damage?!"

"Just a flesh wound sarge!" reported the engineer. "But I don't recommend taking another!"

"Firing!" Caesis unleashed another shot, this one struck the walker square in its face.

"Minimal damage!" reported Hyber after a quick look through his scope.

"Quic! Load in a tungsten block!" ordered Caesis. Good idea, thought Hyber. Tungsten was the heaviest ammo type they had, and was used specifically to deal with heavily armored opponents.

"It'll just take a moment," said Quic.

"Quic! We don't have a moment!" As if sensing _War Tomb's_ momentary helplessness, the walker unleashed an unrelenting barrage from its nose gun. Raliv gunned _War Tomb's_ throttle and avoided the deadly storm of red energy.

Through his scope, Hyber watched two IFVs come to their aid.

"No! You idiots! Pull back!" he broadcasted over the Tac-COM, hoping that they would hear him.

The heavy turrets of both IFVs pelted the walker unrelentingly. Against infantry and lighter vehicles the rounds were more than enough. But the walker barely seemed to notice, and destroyed both vehicles with a volley of missiles.

"Fuck! Quic! Status?!"

"Tungsten is loaded!"

"Caesis! Hit that son of a bitch!"

"Firing!" Once again, _War Tomb's_ main cannon fired. The tungsten round flew true and hit the walker, and penetrated through its chin. Then its head exploded, leaving a pair of headless mechanical legs to topple over onto the ground.

"Target down!" Hyber announced.

A cheer went up inside _War Tomb_ , and over the Tac-COM.

* * *

 _"COME AND DIE ON THE GRAVES OF OUR ANCESTORS!"_

 _"COME AND DIE IN THE FIRES OF WAR!"_

* * *

"Sarge! I've got more bogeys on the sensors!" announced Kilus.

The cheer immediately died. Hyber went to his scope and what he saw made his stomach sink into his bowels. A full column of walkers, no less than two dozen, were marching out from the city towards them.

Kilus screamed his next words into the Tac-COM without hesitation.

"PULL BACK! EVERYONE PULL BACK!"

* * *

"They're pulling back from Talon One sir!" said the communications officer.

"What?! Who gave that order?!" demanded Major Epimas. He brought a scope up to his eye, then focused and zoomed in on a massive cloud of dust. Beneath it he saw the vanguard, made up of a variety of tanks and IFVs. All of them were moving in full reverse from Talon One. Epimas soon saw why, pursuing them was a force of...walking tanks?

"Sir!"

"Ugh, what now?!" asked Epimas, tearing himself away from the scope to glare at his communications officer.

"W-we're getting reports of a force moving on our left flank sir."

"A force? What kind of force? Krogan?"

"Unclear sir."

"Spirits damn it all! Do I have to do everything myself?" Epimas placed his eye to the scope again, this time swinging it towards the left flank.

What he found was even more bizarre than the walking tanks. Like the Turian's retreating vanguard, this force was moving fast, and kicking up a large cloud of dust. But their vehicles were much smaller than tanks and IFVs. It took the major a moment, but eventually he realized that he was looking at a company sized force made up of hover bikes.

And they were closing in fast.

The words, "BRACE THE LEFT FLANK!" had barely left his mouth, before they hit.

* * *

 _"WE SHALL **SHATTER** YOUR BODIES, AND TUCHANKA SHALL BE REBORN IN A BAPTISIM OF YOUR **BLOOD**!"_

* * *

Riding their fast attack vehicles like ancient cavalry, Broonmark and his Mad Claws struck the remnants of the Turian infantry with blindingly savage speed and ferocity. He kept one clawed hand on the controls of his speeder bike and swung his vibro-blade with the other, slicing apart any Turian within reach.

The smell of blood filled Broonmark's nostrils, wetting his appetite, and the sounds of battle enflamed his blood with excitement. With a howl he lashed out with his vibro-blade and decapitated a Turian soldier. The alien's headless body stood for a brief moment, gushing blue blood, before finally falling. Broonmark hooted victoriously. Taking his other claw temporarily off of the bike control, he reached onto his bandolier and freed a thermal detonator. He lobbed the armed explosive and watched as a Turian squad was blown apart.

His fellow Mad Claws cheered with approval.

This is what Broonmark lived for. This was what he and all his Mad Claws lived for: battle, slaughter, taking life.

When he had cleansed his old clan, Broonmark had never thought that he would have another clan again. But then he had found The Wrath, and The Wrath had given him a new clan, a pure clan. This clan was filled with other who shared Broonmark's need to kill, to follow the instincts instilled in him from birth.

On his left, he watched a Shistavanen member of the Mad Claws set several Turians on fire with a wrist mounted flamethrower, then mercilessly gun down several more with a heavy blaster pistol. On his right, Broonmark saw Busurra, a grey furred Wookiee, also on a speeder bike, accurately blast apart victim after victim with his bowcaster.

"YAAAAAHOOOOOOOO!" An open topped speeder truck covered in spikes, carrying the Mad Claws most eccentric pair, ploughed through the Turian ranks.

"Taste my bumper beakies!" cheered Boff from the pilot seat. He was a Houk who was considered fat, even by his own usually rotund species. Like many other Mad Claws he used one hand to steer a vehicle, while the other held a weapon, an old fashioned double barrel flechette launcher.

"Hehehehehehehe! Ya ya ya ya ya ya! Suck laser!" said Pikly, a brown haired Chadra-Fan who was wielding the truck's mounted heavy blaster with great efficiency, mowing down Turians like a scythe through grass.

Despite having the advantage of surprise and speed, Broonmark had to admit that the Turians fought admirably. Many formed up into defensive groups that allowed them to cover one another while also presenting concentrated waves of fire.

Broonmark saw several of his clan get shot off their bikes by a squad of Turians who had formed a defensive circle. He felt no remorse or pity for the fallen, only a rising desire to kill more! With a feral roar, Broonmark turned his speeder bike towards them.

* * *

 _"KROGAN OF TUCHANKA! Though our enemies are as numerous as the sands of the desert, we will never again bow down to them, never again endure the shame they forced upon us, never again endure their false peace, never again allow our children to be taken away, before they could ever know the sun."_

* * *

"Get into formation!"

"Friendly fire! Friendly fire!"

"I've lost shields!"

"HELP! MEDIC!"

"WATCH YOUR SIDES!" barked Epimas, over the cacophony of the battle.

He fired a concentrated burst from his Phaeston, killing another bike rider, this one some sort of reptile.

The attack had happened so quickly. Epimas had barely had enough time to rally what men he could into a circle. There was no cover out in this flat barren wasteland, so they had to rely on overlapping fields of covering fire. Once faced with the extraordinary discipline of the Turian soldiers, the enemy began to take casualties.

It was only after Epimas had made his first kill that he realized they weren't being attacked by Krogan. In fact, Epimas didn't recognize any of the beings attacking them at all.

Some of them were covered from head to toe in thick fur, others were reptilian and had scales. Some had horns or more eyes than a Batarian. Some wielded claws, while others used weapons that spat bright bolts of energy.

It was almost too much for Epimas, the strange non-Krogan aliens, the appearance of energy weapons, the use of hover bikes as a sort of modern cavalry charge. But his training held, and he ignored the burning questions in his mind. He could ask those later. Right now, he had to concentrate on getting himself and his men out of this alive.

"FOCUS FIRE ON THE ONES WITH GUNS! WATCH YOUR SHIELD LEVELS! SHOTGUNS IN FRONT! CAREFUL WHERE YOU TOSS GRENADES!"

A hovering box like vehicle swooped overhead, carrying two more of those large reptilian aliens. They hissed down at the Turians and aimed what looked like hunting rifles.

"ROCKET THAT PLATFORM!" Epimas roared. The lizards opened fire and managed to cut down two of his men before someone finally managed to hit it with a Cobra launcher, and send it spiraling to the dirt. Both occupants survived the crash.

Before the his men could deal with them, a hover bike carrying a large gray hairy creature swept by. The thing leveled a crossbow and fired five shots of green energy. Five of Epimas's men were blown off their feet. Then as quickly as it had come, the hairy creature and its hover bike disappeared into the chaos of the battle.

Then the lizards attacked, dropping their weapons, and leaping at them with their claws. One managed to tear out a Turian's throat before taking a close range shotgun blast, the other Epimas shot in the head with his rifle.

"Damn it all!" cursed Epimas as he looked at the corpses of his men.

Off in the distance, he heard the sound of those walking tanks. _Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk! Ka-chunk!_ They towered over his men and used their nose guns to mercilessly mow them down.

"Sir! I have General Vakarian on the line!" announced his communications officer.

"Thank the Spirits! Patch me in!"

* * *

 **The Shroud**

 _"General!"_

Castius leaned over the table. "Major Epimas! The second wave is on its way, what is your status!?"

Static filled the line. _-out of nowhere sir! We can't hold out for INCOMING ATTACK RUN! GET DOWN!"_

"Major?!" Castius turned to the comm-technician. "Can we clear up this signal?"

"I'm try sir! But the problem is more than likely on their end."

"Damn it! Major?!"

 _"Sir! First wave is down to 50% strength! Our vanguard is in full retreat! They have armored support! Weapons that I've never seen before! They're-"_ Castius heard an explosion and several screams, followed by a call for a medic. _"-they were ready for us sir! I've never seen anything LOOK OUT!"_

"Major?!"

* * *

 _"WE SHALL STRIKE LIKE THUNDER AND LIGHTNING!"_

* * *

Broonmark drove between the legs of a walker, leapt from his speeder bike at the last minute, and watched it plough through the circle of Turians and break their formation. He followed up by tossing a thermal detonator into their midst.

"GRENADE!" the leader shouted. The thermal detonator exploded, taking out about a quarter of the group.

Broonmark then drew his vibro-blade and fell upon the survivors. Six Turians died before the rest started to recover and fight back.

"KILL THAT THING!" the Turian leader ordered his remaining group of twelve soldiers. They all raised their weapon to fire. But Broonmark swiped his claws up from the ground, throwing up a thick screen of dust, before activating his stealth generator.

The Turians fired into the cloud of dust and hit nothing but air.

"Where the hells did it go?" asked a soldier, before Broonmark reappeared and impaled him from behind. He cut down two more soldiers before they finally realized that the Talz warrior was behind them. Broonmark threw out a pair of magna-bolas to incapacitate a Turian leveling a shotgun. By then, the Wookiee warrior Busurra, had returned for another drive by.

Caught between the two alien warriors, the Turians fell quickly.

* * *

 _"WE WILL TEAR APART THEIR DECADANT WORLDS!"_

* * *

Major Epimas watched as the men he'd rallied died one by one. The beast with the DEW shaped like a crossbow had returned. Then there was the other one, just as hairy, but with white fur, and large black soulless eyes. The thing wielded, of all things, a massive sword that sliced through their armor like it was nothing.

When Epimas fired his Phaeston at the white beast, it had raised its left forearm and activated some sort of disk-shaped energy shield that disintegrated all bullets that hit it. Despite that, Epimas did not release the trigger of his rifle. He kept pouring it on in hopes that eventually the shield would break.

It did not.

* * *

 _"WE WILL DESTROY THEIR CORRUPT CIVILIZATIONS!"_

* * *

His Phaeston failsafe systems activated with a shrill screech, and the trigger locked.

The white beast lowered its shield and leaped forward. Epimas instinctively dropped the rifle and reached for his pistol. But before his talons even touched it, the beast had driven the blade into his gut.

A coldness gripped Epimas. He had not wanted to die here. He had hoped to return to Palevan and father a family. He had not wanted to die, alone.

He looked down at the blade sticking through him. Then he looked up into the black soulless eyes of his killer.

It howled something he didn't understand.

That was the last thing Major Epimas heard, before the beast pulled its blade out, and cut off his head.

* * *

 _"WE WILL SLAUGHTER THEIR FAMILIES!"_

 _"AND THEN!"_

 _"...and only then"_

 _"...will the Krogan be avenged."_

* * *

"There they are!" It felt good to say that. Only twenty minutes had passed since Zeller Seven-One had been ordered by General Vakarian to locate and destroy the enemy artillery. Those twenty minutes might as well have been an eternity, spent dodging anti-air missiles and heavy weapons fire.

But now their objective was in sight, and it wasn't at all what Tandios was expecting.

As a child, Tandios had visited the museums on Palevan on the Krogan rebellions. There he had seen models and holo-pics of the ancient Krogan World Shaker artillery guns. They were massive things that lived up to their name and made other artillery guns look insignificant in comparison. Based on a chemical explosion, the World Shakers were used to launch massive explosive shells and utterly annihilate entire cities.

These artillery guns were not what Tandios had seen in the museums.

There were about a dozen of them, and though they bore the same shape of most artillery guns, they moved around on what looked to be four mechanical legs. Using the magnification lens of his display, Tabduis could see each of the guns was operated by a single gunner that occupied a seat on the side of the gun, and had a crew of two that every so often reloaded it.

Even more interesting than the guns themselves were the crew. They were **not** Krogan. Most seemed to be Human, or possibly Asari. But Tandios also saw a few that looked utterly alien to him, ones with tentacles, horns, or fur.

Tandios mentally shook himself. No time to concentrate on that. Good Turians died every moment the guns were allowed to fire.

"You better contact the general, tell him we found the guns" said Pilra.

He attempted to do just that, but was rewarded with nothing but static.

"Damn it, I can't get through."

"Did our comms unit get damaged? We took some weapons fire a little bit back."

"That, or there's a jammer."

"The Krogan can't possibly have..." Pilra stopped herself. The Krogan couldn't possibly have had missile launchers or artillery either, and yet they did. A jammer was no longer out of the question.

"This Zeller Seven One to all Zellers. Can any of you get a line to command?"

A few moments passed before Tandios received 14 red lights. A jammer then.

"Doesn't matter," he decided. "We've still got a job to do. The guys on the ground are still depending on us. Everybody! Descend to 500 meters, arm everything, targets 30 degrees!"

 _"Copy Seven One, forming up on you."_

On his display, Tandios saw fourteen blue blips move in behind them. Then felt himself get pressed back into his seat as Pilra put them into a downward dive.

"4,400 meters to target, ETA: 6 minutes," she announced.

"Increase speed. The longer it takes us to do this the more of our people die."

"Increasing speed. 4,100 meters to target."

"Alright everyone, we're going to do a single sweep. Pick your targets and once you're in range, launch everything you-"

 _"Wait! I've got something on my scopes!"_

* * *

 _"My lord, we have them in our sight."_

 **"Take them out."**

* * *

In the corner of his eye, Tandios saw a flash of red. Then he saw Zeller Seven Three suddenly explode into a shower of flaming hot metal.

"INCOMING GARDIAN FIRE!" No sooner had he shouted out his warning than his vision was filled with more bright flashes of red.

A small part of Tandios realized his statement was incorrect, as the red bolts of energy were not the same as the long beams of a GARDIAN laser system. But the rest of his mind realized it made little difference, when he saw another gunship take a direct hit and explode immediately afterwards.

 _"We just lost Seven Three and Sixteen!"_ someone screamed over the Tac-Com.

"Hang on!" ordered Pilra as she threw their gunship into an evasive roll.

 _"I'm hit!"_ Tandios heard, and saw the blip representing Seven Nine disappear.

"The Krogan weren't supposed to have AA guns!" Pilra cried out. But Tandios barely heard her. He was too concentrated on his display, watching more and more of his squadron disappear. There were only six blue blips left on his screen.

"Break off the attack! I repeat! Break off! Retreat to a higher elevation!"

 _"No! We can make it! We can AHHH-!"_ Another blip disappeared.

"Damn it! Pilra! Get us out of here!"

"Already working on it!" Alarms began to scream inside the cockpit. "Incoming missile!"

"Launching chaff!" He _felt_ a vibration against his back against his back, and his display informed him that the missile was thrown off course. Tandios felt some measure of relief. That vanished, when he saw their gunship's right wing get vaporized.

Alarms began to screech inside the cockpit again and a flashing red light filled his vision.

"We're hit! We're hit! Going down!" said Pilra with barely maintained calm.

"We've got to eject!" Tandios grabbed a large yellow lever on the side of his seat. He was just about to pull it when he saw that Pilra was not doing the same. "What the hell are you doing?"

"We're still too high! If we bail now, we'll be shot right out of the air!"

"If we stay we'll blow up with the gunship! We need to go now!"

"No! I can keep this bird together for a little longer! Long enough to get us to lower altitude!" Another explosion shook the gunship, the left wing had been blown off.

"Pilra! We've got to go! Now!"

"Damn it! Fine! On three!"

Tandios nodded.

"One...Two...Three!"

Both of them yanked their ejection levers. The cockpit window blew off, and the outside world came rushing in. At the same time, the gunship finally decided to die. Tandios felt himself shoot up as the miniature thrusters underneath his seat lifted him to safety. A moment later he felt the heat beneath him as his gunship exploded.

"Spirits! That was a close one!"

Tandios expected to hear his lover's voice reply. It did not.

"My love...are you alright?"

Still nothing. Desperately he looked around, hoping to catch sight of her somewhere in the sky next to him. He saw nothing, except for the burning wreck of the gunship plummeting to the surface below.

"Love...are you there?"

Silence.

"...please answer," he whispered.

She did not.

A few Krogan spotted Tandios's chair gliding down towards the planet, the thrusters underneath guiding him to a soft landing. They took shots at the Turian pilot, missing him by wide margins.

He was aware of them. But could not bring himself to care.

His great love was gone, and all he wanted was to be with her again.

Even if that meant being with her again in the after life.

* * *

 **The _Steadfast -_ Bridge**

 _"We've lost contact with the entirety of the First Wave and its armored vehicle escort,"_ General Vakarian's voice said over the speaker.

"I see," Kivara's tone was solemn, though her posture remained upright. "And what of Zeller Seven?"

 _"We have received no updates and are unable to contact them. We must assume the worst."_

Kivara made a show of sighing in frustration. "Then the artillery is still a threat?"

 _"I'm afraid so."_

"What a mess."

 _"We knew that resistance was likely. But no one could have predicted this."_

"I suppose so," she said, but her tone betrayed skepticism. "How shall we proceed?"

 _"Since Colonel Gravial and Major Epimas are both KIA, I'll be giving a field promotion to Captain Sel'i. He's experienced, and the soldiers of the 132nd trust him. He'll lead the 2nd wave._ _But I want the rest of the Legion deployed, right now."_

Kivara arched a brow plate, though the general couldn't see it. "I thought that we were waiting for a beachhead to be established."

 _"That is no longer an option. Without reinforcements, there will be no one to establish a beachhead. Have them land in the open. We'll use what's left of our armored support to cover their entry."_

"Very well, you are the more experienced with ground battles, I will not question your decision on this."

 _"And I appreciate that. I also think we should put Captain Falari's Black Watch squad into action. The Krogan are well entrenched in the Hollows."_

"Agreed. I'll have your orders passed along immediately."

 _"Very good. With the blessing of the Spirits, this will be the last mistake we make on this operation. For the Hierarchy."_

"For the Hierarchy."

Once the transmission ended, Kivara felt herself smile.

The Krogan had not let her down.

Her war had begun.

* * *

 _CODEX: SITH EMPIRE: MILITARY: SPECIAL TASK FORCE 82 "THE MAD CLAWS"_

 _Special Task Force 82, more famously known as "The Mad Claws", is a collection of highly skilled and violent individuals that are deployed with the purpose of fast attack, guerrilla strikes._

 _The group was first thought up of during the Pre-Revan era, in which the Empire was still prejudiced against non-humans. Special detachments of aliens were employed by the Imperial military as "experiments" to test the possibility of their use in battle. However, due to speciesism and political condemnation, most of these test failed to receive much attention or backing._

 _The concept was reintroduced during the Revan era, after the 2nd Burning of Coruscant, by the Emperor's chief enforcer: The Wrath. Under The Wrath's instruction, a special group of individuals, both human and alien, were gathered. The only requirement for joining was that the individual be, in the words of The Wrath himself: "vicious and bloodthirsty"._

 _Since its inception, Task Force 82 has become one of the most feared and potent arms of the Imperial military. Their brutal, merciless, possibly even sadistic, methods have earned them a terrifying reputation. Entire cells of rebel elements or Republic remnants have surrendered, rather than face the Mad Claws._

 _The name "Mad Claws" comes from the culture of the Wookiees. Mad Claw, is a reference to a Wookiee who has dishonorably used his/her claws to harm another being. Wookiees believe that their claws should only ever be used for climbing. The title is fitting, since many of the Wookiees that are members of Task Force 82 are in fact Mad Claws._

 _Task Force 82 is currently being led by the Talz warrior: Broonmark, who before leading the Mad Claws, was the personal assassin of The Wrath._

 _Notable Members:_

 _Busurra - A Wookiee bounty hunter best known for being the gladiatorial champion of the Outer Rim world, Elos II, and a frequent participant in Darth Nox's fighting pits._

 _Boff and Pikly - an unusual criminal duo from the outer rim, wanted by the Republic for 300 counts of assault, 250 counts of robbery, 423 counts of murder, 80 counts of property damage, 50 counts of arson, 27 counts of public indecency, and 1 count of throwing a Republic senator's pet nuna out an airlock._

* * *

 _CODEX: SITH EMPIRE: MILITARY: 77th ASSAULT "ARMAGEDDON" CORPS_

 _In the pre-Revan era of the Sith Empire, there was once a battalion of the Empire's elite troops known as the Armageddon Battalion. This lone battalion was of such a caliber that entire campaigns were turned around once they began to participate._

 _Upon the ascension of Darth Revan to Emperor of the Sith, the Armageddon battalion caught the attention of The Emperor's Wrath, who had previously worked with the unit in the Corellia campaign. The Wrath subsequently assumed direct control of the battalion. Under his command, the Armageddon battalion reached new heights of fame._

 _The battalion eventually began to expand their ranks, and soon was large enough to be considered an individual Corps of the Imperial military._

 _Since then, the Armageddon Corps had earned a new title:_

 _Hammer of the Empire_

* * *

 **END**

 **So that was a lot of work, but I enjoyed it. This chapter was originally supposed to be released a week ago. But work suddenly dumped a bunch of shit on me and then I caught a light head cold, which took more out of me than I anticipated, so editing took forever.**

 **I realize that it must feel like I'm jamming 100 OC characters down your guys throats right now. Don't worry if you can't keep track of all of them, around 80% of them will be dead soon anyway.**

 **I hope everyone is enjoying the reintroduction of some of the SW companions.**

 **In summary:**

 **Quinn is a General**

 **Pierce is a Black Ops Major**

 **Broonmark is a leader of a clan**

 **Vette is still Vette**

 **Jaesa is...somewhere else right now.**

 **Next Time on ME: SoTS**

 **More Turians die!**

 **Space battles!**

 **Jedi?**

 ***Gasp!***


	15. Chapter 9: Tragedy of Tuchanka, Part 2

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts Ltd and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **MEleeSmasher -** We'll get there eventually  
 **hunter 139 -** We're gonna have some fun with Vasir real soon  
 **Drgyen -** Thank you!  
 **RabdiArmenian -** Citadel is going to have some big surprises!  
 **Old one Griffin -** The Jedi Consular and The Wrath are going to have some exchanges  
 **Guest since ch1 -** I don't know if I'll bring the Yuuzhan Vong into this. I'd like to keep the story focused on the conflict between the Empire and Citadel for now.  
 **fresh prince1 -** The battle has just begun!  
 **Alliance Empire -** That's a fair point, but maybe the Turian penis has adapted over many centuries to compensate, lol.  
 **AVPfan -** the Shadow Broker will have his part to play  
 **Terlander -** I like eyepatches, so don't be too bummed that your theory didn't pan out.  
 **Guest -** Your wish will come true soon!  
 **Revanite72210 -** Nice to see someone got that reference  
 **revan4221 -** Very true, he might appear later.  
 **Guest1 -** thanks!  
 **chuklestheewok -** That is fair criticism and I thank you for taking the time to let me know your opinions in a polite manner. I will respond by saying that I agree with you in regards to the SW character. I'd like to point out that that some of his rage was seen during Part 3. We haven't seen it a lot lately because he hasn't met anyone who requires him to use it, everyone in the ME universe is just too weak for him. The SI character will get to Sith Rituals soon. I have to completely disagree with you on your analysis of Cipher Nine. Mostly because while that might be your take on how Cipher Nine should be, my Cipher Nine character is meant to be completely different. He's less Winter Soldier and more James Bond. **  
Axcel -** That's a fair point, I didn't know that about vibroblades. I guess I'll just change that sentence to "electro-weapons" then. Also, I realize Biotic Charge is not teleportation per say, but I believe it to be close, and as a writer I need as many ways to describe an action as possible so as to not get repetitive. **  
WriteAnon -** It's alright if your reviews aren't very long. I'm just glad to see you're still reading and are enjoying yourself. **  
Garrett -** I try my best to avoid that problem, trust me. **  
Guest2 -** Lana is best girl! I have plans for her, don't you worry. **  
Guest3 -** On the Republic side, I really like the Smuggler.

 **Okay, first of all, yes I realize that it has been more than TWO MONTHS since my last update. I will explain my absence in depth at the bottom of the chapter. But for now, please enjoy this chapter!**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 9 – Tragedy on Tuchanka, Part 2**

* * *

 **Tuchanka, The Hollows**

Once again The Wrath found himself standing alone atop Vaul's Eye. But the scenery was different this time. The barren outskirts that had surrounded the city, once empty, were now decorated with the remnants of the Turian invaders.

Bodies, were the most prolific addition. The bodies of Turian soldiers, shot or cut down. The bodies of destroyed vehicles, flaming and filling the planet's air with thick black smoke.

His helmet magnified the far off scenery. He watched the Mad Claws, assisted by several dozen scout walkers and some hundred Krogan, picking through the dead. Most were working to finish off any survivors, some were looting for valuables. One survivor feebly tried to crawl away on his hands and knees, away from an approaching red skinned Houk. The Houk shot the Turian in the back twice, then proceeded to search the body.

"I have long awaited to see such a sight." Wreav, accompanied by two bodyguards, moved to stand next to The Wrath. "Is it not beautiful?"

The Wrath simply grunted noncommittally.

"You take no joy in battle?" asked Wreav.

 **"Not until it is finished.** **This was but the first wave. Vakarian now knows, in part, what to expect. He will bring to bare the entirety of his forces now."**

"Ha! Excellent! Let him come! We shall be waiting for him! My warriors are eager for more Turian blood!"

The Wrath allowed Wreav to have his moment. Increased morale was never a bad thing, and the happier the Krogan ruler was, the easier The Wrath's job would be. A chime came from his communicator.

 **"Quinn?"** The general appeared in The Wrath's palm.

 _"My lord. Our scouts report that the second wave of Turian forces will be within 10 kilometers of the city's borders in 22.136 standard minutes, approximately...now."_

 **"Very good. Reload the artillery for another barrage."**

 _"Already done my lord."_

The Wrath allowed himself a small smirk. As always, Quinn showed his worth. **"Good, and what of the gunships that were shot down? I understand that survivors were reported."**

 _"There were, my lord. But very few, hardly enough to be of note. I have instructed squads to hunt them down all the same. Would you...like me to have them taken prisoner?"_

 **"It is as you said, they are hardly worthy of note. Kill them all."**

 _"Yes my lord."_

 **"And have the walkers pull back into the city. The real battle begins now."**

 _"As you say, my lord,"_ Quinn bowed his head, before disappearing. The Wrath contacted Broonmark next.

 **"Broonmark."** The Talz warrior appeared, a bloody Turian's head held in his claws.

 _"My lord, the hunt has been good. You should have joined us,"_ Broonmark trilled.

 **"Another time perhaps, for now my place is to oversee the battle. I need you to bring the Mad Claws into the city. The next wave will hit soon, we must be ready."**

 _"We obey lord. But we beg you not to hold us back for long. Our thirst has just begun to be satiated."_

 **"Fear not. Soon it will be quenched."** Broonmark disappeared, and The Wrath turned to a confused looking Wreav.

"How can you understand that thing?" he asked. The Wrath ignored the Krogan's question, and had the nearby communications post patch him through to Pierce.

 **"Major Pierce."**

 _"My lord,"_ Pierce appeared clad in his black and red Black-Ops armor, cradling his helmet in the crook of his arm.

 **"The first wave has just been defeated. Your operation will begin soon."**

 _"Acknowledge my lord. We're ready, you'll have your ambassadors by the end of the day."_

 _"I still don't appreciate being volunteered for this by the way!"_ Vette's voice came from somewhere off the projection.

 **"Where are my apprentices?"**

 _"Meditating my lord,"_ answered Pierce. _"Do you want me to get them?"_

 **"No, let them prepare. Remain on standby till you are given the word to proceed."**

* * *

 **Hierarchy 9th Fleet, above Tuchanka**

 **Cruiser - _Julivan_**

"I heard that the first wave got shot to shit," said Halin as he adjusted his gauntlets.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," grumbled Sura.

Together they and the rest of their Cabal squad stood at the ready inside the troop shuttle. The space inside was long, rectangular, and able to fit three dozen armed Turians shoulder to shoulder. A nice big coffin for all of us, mused Halin. As usual, the cabals were put in the front. The idea was that when the ramp dropped and the soldiers stormed out, the cabals would put up barrier domes to prevent early casualties. Of course that also meant that the cabals were the first to get shot at.

For the millionth time in his life, Halin cursed his lot in life. He should have gone with his brother into the Terminus systems, could have become a pirate, put his talents to use in a way _he_ wanted. Instead he was stuck here, being a bullet sponge for cannon fodder.

Halin looked over his shoulder and saw Captain "Rules" Ruvon at the very back of line. Typical, Halin thought.

 _"Prepare for landing,"_ said a voice over the speaker.

Then Halin felt his mouth go dry with fear. He'd never liked dropping into combat zones via shuttle, there were too many different ways for him to die.

 _"5 minutes to the LZ,"_ said the pilot with annoying calm.

"Cabals get ready to put up a barrier. The LZ is going to be hot and full of hostiles," added Ruvon.

"When the fighting starts, stick by me," Halin heard someone whisper behind him. He didn't need to look to know that it was Opib, speaking to his friend Fauvis. The two had grown up together, shipped out to boot together, and become Cabals together. Now they were utterly inseparable.

"You got it, I'll protect you from the big bad Krogan," whispered Fauvis.

"Me? Oh no no no, you're the one who needs protecting," Opib shot back.

Beneath his helmet, Halin rolled his eyes. Idiots, he thought. But both were excellent Cabals and handy in a firefight, so he kept his thoughts to himself. It was always easier to convince others to be your meatshield when they didn't hate you.

Suddenly the transport began to rock fiercely.

"What the hells?" someone asked.

Halin looked out one of the side windows just in time to see another transport turn into a ball of fire, then drop from sight.

"Spirits! Incoming flak!"

"We're getting shot at aren't we?!"

 _"1 minute to the LZ."_

"Everyone get ready!" ordered Ruvon, but Halin barely heard him.

 _"30 seconds."_

The cabal felt the transport slow, then jerk as it finally touched down on the planet's surface. His heart began to pound like a drum inside of his chest. Then the ramp fell, bathing the Turians in the pale light of Tuchanka's sun.

"GO! GO! GO!"

For a moment, Halin was tempted to tell Captain Rules to go screw himself and then run the opposite direction, away from the fighting. But the more rational part of him realized that if he did so, he would be on the bad side of not just one, but two armies.

So Halin charged head first into the battlefield, and prayed to the Spirits that everyone else would get shot at first.

* * *

 **The Shroud**

"Sir, I have Fleet Admiral Regirus for you in the communications room."

Castius sighed. "Patch her through. I'll be down presently."

He was not looking forward to this. Upon entering the communications room, Castius was greeted by an orange hued life sized hologram of the Admiral. She looked decidedly self satisfied, with her arms crossed and her hips were popped out onto one leg. Castius resolutely strode up to her, determined not to show a hint of weakness.

"General Vakarian, I understand that things on the ground are...not going to plan," she said. Castius noted an undertone of smugness in her voice.

"Yes Fleet Admiral," Castius began, trying best to keep his tone level, "we have encountered a number of unforeseen obstacles. But I'm confident that in the end we will prevail. The Hierarchy always prevails in the end."

"Of course," Regirus nodded. "But I was hoping that you could explain a few things to me. I've gotten some rather perplexing reports. What's this I hear about the enemy using DEWs? Surely that's not possible."

Castius shifted uncomfortably. "Survivors of the first wave reported they were attacked by hostile forces utilizing handheld energy weapons. Helmet-cam footage confirms their claims."

The admiral's confidence seemed to wane. "How can that be? No one, not even the Salarians, have gotten close to even prototyping handheld DEWs."

"Perhaps the Krogan are secretly a very scientific race, and they have been fooling the whole galaxy with a veneer of barbarism."

"Now is not the time for levity General Vakarian."

Castius nodded. "Of course. In truth, I too do not believe the Krogan are the source behind these new weapons. I believe that this is the Krogan 'benefactor' that the Council warned us about."

"You speak of the instigators that the Spectre, Shepard, spoke of?"

"Yes."

"His report made no mention of handheld energy weapons. Only the rising militarization of Tuchanka's population."

"I doubt the Council would have believed it even if he said anything. But there is more to our setback than these new weapons."

"Ah, yes, the reports about new species."

"Indeed," Castius nodded, "I fear Fleet Admiral, that we could be looking at another First Contact scenario, one equivalent to the Relay 314 incident."

The admiral's mandibles flared in a way that was similar to a human furrowing their brows. "Perhaps, but this time these new species truly are the aggressors. They attacked our men and made no effort for peaceful communication. Worse, they have aided the Krogan in violating Citadel law."

"They likely do not know Citadel law even exists," Castius pointed out.

"Likely, but the Krogan most certainly know it. You're not having second thoughts about this battle, are you general?"

Castius scowled. "And what if I were?"

Regirus pinned the general with a heavy glare. Castius did not waver, and glared right back. Neither of them spoke.

 _"Sir!"_ the voice of Lieutenant Roma interrupted the standoff.

"Yes Lieutenant?" asked Castius, his eyes not leaving Regirus's.

 _"Sorry to interrupt sir. But the second wave has made contact with the enemy. They've encountered hostile flak."_

"I see, thank you lieutenant I will be up soon." Castius crossed his arms. "Whether I want to or not, this battle will happen, and the Hierarchy must be victorious. We still hold orbital superiority thanks to your fleet Regirus, can I count on your support?"

Regirus smiled haughtily. "Of course general, for the Hierarchy."

"For the Hierarchy."

* * *

 ** _Steadfast_**

"Give me a connection to the _Honorable_."

"Yes ma'am," said one of the bridge crew. A few moments passed until Kivara was greeted by the voice of Admiral Futan.

 _"Fleet Admiral, what can I do for you,"_ he asked.

"Our soldiers on the planet's surface need support. Take you're battle group down to the planet's surface and but the fear of the Hierarchy into the Krogan."

 _"With pleasure Fleet Admiral."_ Kivara smiled and watched as a small section of her fleet broke formation and moved down towards the planet. Slowly but surely things were starting to look her way, and soon her legend would be born.

* * *

 **Tuchanka**

In the top corner of her eye Sitora saw three more shuttles explode, their occupants vaporized without ever having had a chance to fight back. It made her grateful for the stealth technology utilized in her squad's personal shuttle. With it they'd managed fly in under the radar, completely avoiding any flak, and land without ever having had to worry about being shot down from the sky.

 _"Raptor Lead, you alright?"_ asked Cairus, over a private channel. Her brother's voice snapped the commando's attention back to the task at hand.

"I'm fine Raptor 2," she replied. "Let's just hurry, the sooner we knock out those guns, the sooner we can move on to mounting Urdnot's head on a wall."

The twelve Turian Blackwatch operatives, clad in the midnight black armor, moved through the Krogan city like shadows. Their stealth generators rendered them invisible to all but each other, and the thunderous sounds of battle drowned out any noise their steps made. Even so, Sitora had them move at a cautious pace.

Krogan and their strange allies were everywhere, and as good as her team was, not even they could fight off an army by themselves.

 _"I've got motion on my sensors,"_ Raptor 5 announced quietly. _"Four contacts, left side."_

"Hold," Sitora ordered, and the squad immediately came to halt. Their stealth generators ensured that they all became nothing more than part of the ancient brick walls of the alley they were traveling down. The twelve commandos waited for less than 30 seconds before they began to hear heavy footsteps.

Four Krogan came around the corner of the alley, all carrying large, heavy looking boxes. One of them was grumbling quietly, something about not getting to shoot Turians and being given a shit duty.

 _"Orders Raptor Lead?"_ asked Cairus as the Krogan lumbered on, clueless that they had just passed half the Blackwatch squad.

"Take them out, quietly."

The Krogan never stood a chance. Before any of them ever realized it, four Omni-blades flashed into existence on invisible hands and slipped into their skulls. Their bodies and the cargo they'd been carrying, were quickly intercepted from a noisy fall by the rest of the squad.

"Open up one of the crates," Sitora ordered. She was curious to know what the Krogan had been transporting. A commando activated his Omni-tool and quickly cracked the encryption on the crate. It's lid sprung open with a hiss. Sitora reached inside and pulled out something heavy.

 _"Now that's a gun,"_ Cairus said admiringly.

 _"That's no gun, it's an automatic grenade launcher,"_ said Raptor 7.

"It's a Striker," realized Sitora, "the original kind, made just for Krogan to use. These things went out of production over five centuries ago. They're even deadlier than the kind you see out on the black market."

 _"They're also really fucking illegal,"_ added Raptor 3.

"Somehow I doubt Urdnot Wreav cares about legality," Sitora tossed the rifle back in the crate. "Take pictures and scans, then fry all of them. Less guns for the Krogan to use means fewer guns pointed at our comrades."

After disposing of the ordinance, the squad of commandos continued on. They had no more encounters with the enemy until finally they reached their objective. By then, Sitora had counted that a full 5 minutes had passed. Which likely meant that at least 500 Turians had died from Anti-Air fire, 500 more lives that she would need to avenge.

They would all be avenged in the end, she reminded herself. They would all be avenged when the one responsible for their deaths was finally brought to justice. That was their job, and if they didn't do their job then all those deaths would be for nothing. So she had to do everything within her power to make sure this mission was a success.

 _"I see our objective,"_ said Raptor 10 over the Tac-Com. She had sent him and Raptor 12 ahead of the rest of the squad as scouts. She held up a fist, signaling everyone to stop.

"And?" she asked, "what are we up against?"

 _"It's better if I show you,"_ a small screen popped up inside of Sitora's HUD. It showed the enemy AA guns, large boxy looking machines with two massive barrels that spewed out heavy bolts of energy at an alarming rate. Sitora had to admit that when she had been briefed about their objective, she hadn't fully believed it. After all, the Krogan having energy weapons? That was like saying a Volus had become skinnier than a Salarian.

But now that she saw it, she couldn't deny it.

"Targets confirmed, positive ID on enemy AA emplacements," she announced over the squad channel. Nine silent acknowledgements were their response.

 _"There's more,"_ Raptor 10 added. The screen moved, lowering its angle to show the base of the emplacement where the gunnery crews were busily going about their tasks. Sitora saw Krogan, but she also saw aliens that weren't Krogan. They came in a variety of different colors and shapes, some even had fur or scales. Most noticeably was the fact that some were definitely Human. But regardless of their species, all but the Krogan were wearing black armor with red detailing, decorated by a symbol that Sitora did not recognize.

As she watched one of the crews reload one of the emplacements with near Turain level efficiency, Sitora decided that they could worry about it later. Right now they had a job that needed doing.

"Raptor 10 and 12, hold your positions. We're coming to you."

The squad rendezvoused inside of a two story building that overlooked the AA emplacements. Judging by the number of rooms and furniture, Sitora guessed that it had once been some sort of apartment complex. She noted with interest that all Krogan furniture was either metal or stone.

Raptor 10 and 12 had hidden themselves in one of the apartments, which was large enough to fit the entire squad.

"What're we up against?" she asked.

 _"We counted at least 40 plus hostiles. About half are Krogan, the rest are the unknowns,"_ answered Raptor 10.

"Understood, good work. Team leaders, huddle up." Cairus and Raptor 3 moved next to her. With the Tac-Com there was no need to be so close, but Sitora liked to look at her men in the eye before the shooting began. "We're up against a large platoon sized force. Surprise and accuracy are going to be key here."

 _"What are you thinking Raptor Lead?"_ asked Cairus.

"We've got to hit them on all sides at once. Raptor 2, you'll take your team and circle around to the other side. I think I saw another building you could set up in."

 _"Copy that,"_ nodded Cairus.

"Raptor 3, take your team down to ground level and hit them from the middle. We'll squeeze, then you pop."

 _"Affirmative_ ,"nodded Raptor 3.

"You know you're jobs. Let's get this done."

Sitora's team of four, including herself, got into position the quickest. Unsurprising since all they had to do was set themselves up on the building's second story walkway. But it took 10 minutes for the other teams to get setup. During that time Sitora observed the enemy with cold fascination. It seemed that the Krogan were here only as guards. She saw none of them touch or even get close to the high-tech AA guns. In fact when one got too close to a gun and its crew, one of the unknowns, a human, shooed the Krogan away. It was almost laugh worthy and gave her quite a bit of insight into the enemy. Though they were allies, the two parties weren't friends. There was an almost visible line between the Krogan and the unknowns.

Sitora found the unknowns fascinating, particularly the new aliens. It was so bizzare seeing beings that were so different work together with such fluidity. There was one alien that had four arms, each as thick as Sitora's leg, a wattle beneath its chin, and what looked like a miniature Krogan crest on its head. It used its arms well, loading the gun it was assigned to twice as fast as the other crews.

But despite how well they all worked together, Sitora noticed a division within the unknowns as well. Nearly all the officers -Sitora identified them by their lack of armor- were Human. It seemed that there was an unspoken yet clear prejudice against the non-Humans. Perhaps the new aliens were a client race of the Humans? The thought was worrying to Sitora. Her father had fought in the Relay 314 Incident, fought and died. That had been just one battle, a full blown war with the Humans was something that had to be avoided at all costs.

 _"Raptor 2 here, we're in position sister."_ Sitora made a note to chide Cairus for his unprofessional attitude later.

 _"Raptor 3 here, my team is in position."_

"Copy. Everyone pick a target. We fire on my go."

A dozen holographic sight lines appeared on Sitora's HUD, invisible to the enemy. Each one originated from a Blackwatch rifle and reached out to one of the targets below. Sitora added her own line to the mix, putting her sights on one of the Krogan guards. The unknowns might have some fancy tech, but the majority of them were just gun crews, not front line soldiers. They would go down easy, and maybe even surrender once their guards were gone.

Sitora let out a slow breath.

"Everyone get ready to fire on my mark. Three...two...one...mark!"

Twelve suppressed shots were fired at the exact same time. A mere moment later twelve bodies hit the ground. By the time someone noticed, the commandos had already lined up new shots and sent another twelve beings to their respective afterlives. One of the unknowns, the alien with four arms, roared in a language Sitora did not understand. The alien's bellow caught the attention of all the guards and crews. They finally saw the dead and began arming themselves.

"Fire at will," Sitora ordered.

Though they had been the main focus of the opening shots, a dozen Krogan still remained active. Now aware that the Turians were upon them, they activated their kinetic barriers and began firing wildly in every direction. Sitora barely flinched as a shot whizzed past her head and hit the concrete wall behind her. She had seen this kind of behavior before. When confronted by an unseen enemy fear and anger pushed logic out of the way, resulting in panic. When that happened the odds of actually getting hit by enemy fire were nearly nil.

The team of Blackwatch commandos continued whittling down the enemy with cold efficiency. By the time the unknowns decided to get involved, half the surviving Krogan guards were dead. Sitora finally got her first taste of what it was like to be shot at by DEWs when one of the unknowns, a Human, fired a pistol in Team 1's direction.

It was a lot like being shot at with bullets, but at the same time it was completely different. The first shot of sizzling energy crackled past Sitora's shoulder, struck the wall behind her, and sent a shower of sparks raining down on Team 1. One of her team let out a yelp, and she couldn't blame them. The sounds, the sights, even the smell of these weapons was completely alien to the Turians. If she had not possessed incredible discipline and a sound mind, Sitora had no doubt the sight of these weapons would have sent her scrambling.

Then, either by some mistake on Raptor 7's part, or by sheer luck on the unknown's, a red bolt struck the commando in the collar. He let out a yell and tumbled to the ground, then his stealth generator flickered off.

"There! They're over there!" Sitora heard one of the Humans scream.

 _"Uh oh,"_ said Cairus.

Sitora reacted immediately. "Team 3, power down stealth generators and draw enemy fire while we get Raptor 7 to cover."

 _"Acknowledged."_

Four Turians in black armor shimmered into existence and opened fire upon the enemy forces. The enemy responded quickly, shifting their field of fire to deal with an enemy that they could actually see.

"Grab him! I'll cover you!" Sitora ordered. Raptor 8 and 9 switched off their stealth generators and dragged Raptor 7 into one of the empty rooms.

An alien with strange head tails noticed and fired its rifle at the retreating Blackwatch commandos. Sitora made it pay for its opportunistic behavior, by unloading a quick burst into the center of its chest. The alien was knocked straight onto its back, but then it rolled into cover and out of Sitora's line of sight. She cursed, that was the fifth time that had happened. The unknowns had tough armor.

"AP," she ordered. Grey holographic glyphs appeared on her Kestar. When the alien leaned out of cover, a stream armor piercing rounds tore through its chest.

The enemy might have had fancy toys, but the Blackwatch commandos had some tricks of their own, and better training.

"Time to end this. Team 2, with me! Death from above!"

Sitora deactivated her camouflage and then activated her HAVOC armor's built in propulsion pack. Tongues of flame spewed out from the pack's micro-jets and launched her high into the air. Team 2 soon followed up after her. Having spent hundreds of hours in training learning how to maneuver in the air, Sitora flew effortlessly above the enemy while at the same time peppering them with deadly accurate shots.

Caught between an assault of both land and air, enemy number dropped quickly. Even so, the enemy continued to fight with ferocity equal to the Turians. Raptor 12 took a shot in his propulsion pack, and made a crash landing in the middle of the enemy formation, where he was immediately engaged in melee combat by the hulking four armed alien.

"I'm going in! Cover me!" Sitora exploded down towards the ground like a missile. She aimed herself straight for the four armed alien, who had gotten the better of Raptor 12, and had the commando raised above his head like a doll.

Sitora crashed into the alien's unprotected back, freeing Raptor 12 and knocking the huge alien to the ground. She fired two shots into the back of its head, popping it like an overripe fruit. The rest of the Krogan and unknowns soon followed after, unable to hold out under the disciplined and accurate assault of the commandos.

"You alright?" Sitora asked, extending a hand to Raptor 12.

 _"Yeah, thanks ma'am,"_ the commando took her hand, and she pulled him to his feet.

 _"What. The hells. Just happened?"_ asked Cairus as he landed next to her.

"We just fought..." Sitora made a quick count, "...seven different unidentified alien species wielding advanced DEWs, and won."

From reading just his body language, Sitora could tell that Carius was smiling. She shook her head in silent exasperation, this was why she was in command of the squad.

"Sitrep, how is everyone?"

 _"Ma'am, Raptor 7 took a bad hit. He's having trouble breathing."_

 _"I'm...I"m fine ma'am."_

 _"With respect Raptor 7. You're not."_

"Damn it," she cursed. She had underestimated the deadliness of those energy weapons. She had thought that their training and coordination as a squad would render them a non-issue. Now she knew that had been a mistake.

 _"Orders Raptor Lead?"_ asked Cairus.

For a moment Sitora was silent, but when she spoke again it was with steel in her voice. "Squad, start putting charges on the guns. They're what we came for after all."

Three of the squad immediately went about placing explosives on the AA emplacements.

 _"And Raptor 7?"_

Sitora was silent for another moment. It was a hard decision, but it was one that had to be made.

"We have to move on," she finally said.

 _"Ma'am?"_ the commando's voice betrayed his surprise. She couldn't blame him.

"We can't take him with us, and I won't lose another of us to get him back to base. We have a job to do, and to get it done we need every able body we can get."

 _"But ma'am-"_

"You have your orders soldier," she cut him off.

 _"...yes ma'am."_

"Raptor 7, the enemy will soon be coming to check on what's happened to their guns. When they do, you are to take as many of them out as you can. Once you are overwhelmed, activate you're armor's Afterlife implants." She paused, then added, "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Each member of Blackwatch had their armor fitted with Afterlife implants. Small explosives, too tiny to ever notice. It only activated when the armor's monitoring systems detected that the wearer was dead. The body would be incinerated and no trace of Blackwatch ever being in the area would be left. Raptor 7's family would have no body to bury either, but that was the price of service in Blackwatch.

Raptor 7 coughed harshly through the Tac-Com. _"I understand ma'am. For the Hierarchy."_

"For the Hierarchy."

 _"Ma'am,"_ a commando walked up to her. _"We've finished planting the explosives. They're ready for detonation on your go."_

"Very good, all Raptors regroup on me. It's time to go hunting."

* * *

 ** _Steadfast -_ Bridge**

Kivara had been holding a holographic conference with the Council ambassadors on the _Joining Tide._ Somehow the reports of new alien species and DEWs had reached them despite Kivara ordering a lockdown on all information pertaining to the battle. Fearing another Relay 314 incident, the ambassadors had demanded that she cease all hostile activities on Tuchanka. She in turn reminded them that she took her orders from the Primarch, who had ordered the Ninth fleet to pacify Tuchanka. If they could convince the Council, to convince the Primarch, to order her to cease the operation, then she would. Until then, she and General Vakarian would continue as planned. The ambassadors had been struck speechless, at least for a few blissful seconds.

When the ambassadors found their tongues again, they were ready to launch into a tirade. Thank the Spirits, Kivara found herself saved by an incoming report. She immediately excused herself from the conference, leaving the ambassadors to stew in their indignity.

"Report!" she ordered upon returning to the bridge.

"Fleet Admiral, Raptor Squad has reported in. They successfully took out a number of enemy AA guns. Admiral Futan has begun moving his battle group in to provide close air support."

"Excellent, inform Admiral Futan that he may proceed with his attack." The Krogan might have been fierce warriors on the ground. But with no navy support to speak of they would soon be cowed into submission. This battle, despite running into unknown elements, would ultimately end in a Turian victory, a victory that would be attributed to her and the Ninth fleet.

Kivara looked down at the planet below and allowed herself a small satisfied chuckle. Everything was going according to plan.

* * *

The Wrath watched as nearly a dozen Turian ships smoothly slid across the Tuchankan sky. He judged that at their current speed they would be in a perfect position to provide close air support to their ground forces in just under 15 standard minutes. Thankfully, it was just one battle group and not the entire fleet. Likely the admiral in charge of the fleet above believed one battle group would be enough.

In most cases they would have been correct. But not this time.

The Wrath brought up his communicator and spoke. **"Inform Fleet Admiral Kua that he may join the battle."**

* * *

 _ **Steadfast -**_ **Bridge**

"Fleet Admiral! We're detecting 52 new contacts entering the system!" someone on the bridge reported, a mere moment before Kivara's holographic display was swarmed by new markers.

"What?!" Kivara glared at the display, as though doing so would cause the markers to disappear. They did not. How had so many vessels slipped by their sensors? Anything traveling through the Mass Relays would have had to go past the patrol groups she had left stationed there.

"Orders ma'am?" a voice asked.

"I want them identified immediately! Whoever they are, this is the site of crucial Citadel mission, and they are trespassing."

"Yes ma'am!"

While her crew got to work Kivara took a moment to look out the viewport, passed the starboard bow. Her mind rebelled at the possibility that anything had gotten so close without anyone in the entire fleet noticing until now. But as though the universe itself conspired to prove her wrong, where there was once nothing but the empty darkness of space, an swarm of odd looking ships now resided.

The ships were like nothing Kivara had ever seen before, and matched no known style of ship that she knew. All of them were angular and shaped like a triangular wedge. She turned back to her holographic display and quickly cycled through the preliminary scans. Thermals confirmed the earlier reports, 52 distinct contacts. But it also revealed that while the majority of the contacts were destroyer tonnage, at least 14 were of dreadnought tonnage.

14 dreadnoughts. Kivara forced her mind to remain calm. Just because they were of dreadnought tonnage did not necessarily mean they had the firepower of one. They could after all be simply very large transports, and it wasn't as if her own fleet didn't have strength in itself. Though the _Steadfast_ was the flagship of the 9th Fleet, it wasn't the fleet's only dreadnought. There was also the _Spirit of Edessan_ and the _Sword of Taetrus_ , both were the equal of the _Steadfast_ in terms of fire power.

"Fleet Admiral, I've finished running a full analysis of the unknown contacts."

"Let me guess, you found no matches?"

"That's correct ma'am. What does it mean?"

Kivara barely heard the crewmen as her mind recalled her conversation with General Vakarian, about the Krogan's unknown benefactor. Finally she responded.

"It means that we have fight on her hands," Kivara said. The blood inside of her veins had chilled, but soon it was soon thawed by the burning rage that ignited inside her heart. Let the universe conspire against me, she thought, I will not be denied my destiny. "Hail them on all bands, they might have more dreadnoughts but we still outnumber them. We'll give them one chance to surrender. If they're smart they'll take it."

* * *

 **Aboard the Kilran's Revenge...**

Off the _Steadfast's_ starboard side, holding just outside the effective weapons range of an accelerator cannon, the 12th Imperial Conquest Fleet hung over Tuchanka like an ominous storm cloud. At the very front of the Imperial fleet was the _Eternal Warden_ , an imposing 3 kilometer long, _Annihilation-_ class Imperial Super Dreadnought. Only ten of its like were found in the entire Imperial Navy, and it served as the personal flagship of the Emperor's Wrath himself.

But today, the _Eternal Warden_ was not commanded by The Emperor's Wrath, nor did its commander hold sway over the entirety of the 12th Conquest Fleet. Today the _Eternal Warden_ was commanded by Captain VanGellis, and the 12th Conquest Fleet was under the command of Fleet Admiral Ulysses Kua, who fulfilled his position aboard his own _Harrower II-_ class dreadnought, the _Kilran's Revenge_. Though not as large as the _Eternal Warden_ , the _Kilran's Revenge_ was still an impressive length of 1.2 kilometers and it had the advantage of not being immediately identified as the fleet's command ship.

"Fleet Admiral Kua, the fleet has moved out of light speed. The Turian fleet is just off our port bow."

"Indeed they are, what are their numbers?" Ulysses' smooth baritone voice carried itself throughout the bridge without him ever raising its volume.

"Sensors indicate the blockade is comprised of 90 ships, varying tonnage. But there are also readings that say a group of 10 vessels are moving down towards the planet's surface," the sensors officer answered.

"Hmmm, one hundred ships then," the Human fleet admiral finished wiping down the circular black lenses of his spectacles. Casually he replaced them onto his nose, and then folded his handkerchief into a perfect square before gingerly placing it in his chest pocket. "And the main target? Do we have its position?"

"Yes sir, but...it's strange. It appears that the _Joining Tide_ has moved inside the _Steadfast_."

"That's not so strange. The _Joining Tide_ is a corvette after all, it could easily fit inside the hangar of a dreadnought like the _Steadfast."_

"Sir!" said a new officer, "the enemy fleet is on the move! They're re-positioning themselves. My guess is they'll be taking standard battle positions!"

That meant staggered lines and the dreadnoughts evenly spread among the fleet. "Not unexpected. They likely realized that we are not here to make peace. Broadcast this order to the whole fleet, all ships are to assume battle readiness."

"Yes sir."

"Fleet Admiral, we're receiving a transmission from the Turian fleet sir. They're hailing us," said the communications officer.

Ulysses smiled, revealing a set of perfect white teeth. He was excited, this would be the first official contact between the Sith Empire and the Citadel. He quickly straightened out his uniform. "Very good. Let's see what the Turians have to say, patch them through."

The communications officer nodded. The bridge's holotransmitter activated, and a hologram of the _Steadfast's_ bridge took shape. Ulysses spotted a few crew at the edges of the image sitting at their stations, their images clear in the holo's resolution. A single female Turian dressed in an officer's uniform stood in the foreground. Her posture was perfectly straight, and her eyes fixated squarely onto Ulysses. She silently studied him for a brief moment, Ulysses silently allowed her to.

 _"I am Fleet Admiral Kivara Regirus of the Hierarchy 9th Fleet,"_ she finally said. _"Id_ _entify yourself immediately."_

"I am Fleet Admiral Ulysses Kua, of the Sith Empire," Ulysses punctuated his greeting by tipping his cap to the Turian. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance Admiral Regirus."

The Turian cocked a brow plate skeptically. _"I am a_ Fleet _Admiral, you will remember to address me as such, Human."_

Ulysses made note of the way she said 'Human', like she was spitting out poison or rotten food. "My apologies _Fleet_ Admiral. I will remember from now on."

 _The 'Sith Empire',"_ she continued. _"I_ _have never heard of any 'Sith Empire'. Is 'Sith' another way of saying Human?"_

"Why would you think that?" Ulysses asked.

 _"You're clearly Human."_

Ulysses actually chuckled. "Ah yes, forgive me, I forget that the people of this galaxy still think in terms of species."

 _"What the hells is that supposed to mean?"_

Ulysses chuckled again, much to the visible irritation of Regirus. "Nothing really, an inside joke."

Regirus glared daggers at Ulysses, she clearly thought him to be insane. _"What is the intention of you and your fleet here, Human?"_

"I suspect that you already know Admiral-"

 _"Fleet Admiral."_

Ulysses' eyes rolled behind his spectacles. "...Fleet Admiral Regirus. But I shall play along. I am here to assist the local Krogan population in driving off the forces of their oppressors: the Citadel Council. Like a company of gallant warriors, I and my fleet shall ride to their aide just in the nick of time to save them from utter defeat. Then together, we will create a shining utopia, in which all live in blissful harmony, and braid one another's hair."

Behind him, Ulysses could hear a few members of the bridge crew fighting to smother their laughter. Regirus looked highly unamused.

 _"Krogan do not have hair,"_ she pointed out.

"Neither do I," Regirus lifted his cap to reveal his bald head. The Turian let out a menacing growl that reminded Ulysses of a Nexu.

 _"You dare mock me?! I am highly ranked officer in the most powerful military in the galaxy!"_

Ulysses replaced his officer's cap onto his head. "I'm sure you'll be spoken very highly of at your funeral."

 _"Am I to understand then, that your intentions are hostile toward me and my fleet?"_

"You're the officer in the most powerful military in the galaxy. I'm sure you can figure it out."

 _ _ _"Then I'll be brief Ulysses Kua._ _ _This system is a restricted area, by entering it you have violated Citadel Law. The law of the most powerful galactic government in the galaxy. With the power vested in me by the Citadel, I order you to power down your engines, surrender your vessels, and prepare for boarding. Do so, and you shall be treated fairly as prisoners of war. Attempt to flee or fight, and every single one of your ships will be obliterated with extreme prejudice. I have no patience for fools and traitors. You are clearly a fool, and as a Human you have betrayed Citadel Law. You therefore offend me on two levels. I suggest you choose your next course of action, very carefully."____

A silent beat passed before Ulysses finally spoke. "Are you quite finished Admiral Regirus?"

 _"Fleet Admiral,"_ she corrected.

"My apologies. Are you quite finish _Fleet_ Admiral?" Ulysses watched as the Turian's mandibles twitched in a manner that he knew expressed anger. When she continued to say nothing he continued. "You have acquitted yourself honorably in extending an offer of accepting a surrender. It pains me greatly that I cannot return the courtesy. My masters have quite explicitly stated that your entire fleet must be wiped from the face of the galaxy."

" _Ha! You can't be serious!"_ Regirus balked, rather rudely Ulysses noted. _"We outnumber you two to one. You may have many large ships, but that does not mean you can match our firepower. My ships are armed with state of the art accelerator cannons, protected by top of the line kinetic barrier technology and armor, and crewed by the greatest soldiers the galaxy has ever seen. What do you have?"_

Ulysses smiled, causing Regirus to flinch. "You don't know what I have Fleet Admiral Regirus, and that is why you are afraid. End transmission."

The Turian disappeared before another word could be exchanged. "All ships, engage the enemy. But do not damage their flagship."

* * *

 _ **Steadfast**_ _ **-**_ **Bridge**

That foolish Human had no idea whom he was trifling with, thought Kivara. It would bring her great pleasure to wipe that smug look off of his ugly face.

"Move the fleet out of blockade formation. I want every ship in attack position, and ready to move into weapons range NOW!" The Admiral barked.

"Yes Fleet Admiral!" said a bridge officer.

Kivara was about to contact General Vakarian and inform him of the arrival of the enemy fleet, when another officer caught her attention.

"Ma'am! We're detecting power fluctuations coming from the enemy fleet."

"What?" Kivara stared out the viewport at the enemy fleet skeptically. What was that Human thinking? The two fleets were well beyond effective weapon's rang-.

"INCOMING WEAPONS FIRE!" A moment later, hundreds of angry red bolts smashed into the 9th Fleet.

"Spirits! We've just lost the frigates _Thati_ and _Ferrin_!" someone yelled.

"Heavy cruiser _Galapin_ reports heavy damage and...they're gone! Spirits they're all gone!"

Kivara barely heard any of it, as she stared in silent horror at the swarm of red filling her viewport. Energy weapons! Ship-grade energy weapons!

"Orders ma'am?!"

The question knocked Kivara out of her stupor, and she quickly resumed command.

"Stay the course, get the fleet into attack formation! We have to close the distance before they tear us to bits!"

* * *

 _ **Kilran's Revenge -**_ **Bridge**

The command had been given.

As one the Imperial ships opened fire. Burning red turbolaser fire crossed through the black vacuum between the two fleets to slash through the hulls of Turian ships. Ulysses saw several ships immediately take mortal wounds. The Turians quickly realized that their kinetic barriers were useless against the Imperial energy weapons, and the armor of their ships fared little better.

Ulysses watched as ship after ship died. Eventually the Turians seemed to realize the futility of relying on their defensive technology, and began to place more effort in evading damage. But it was difficult.

Half of the Turian fleet was still in blockade formation. The Turian ships were tightly packed together, so as to form a tight net that no vessel launching from the planet could escape. But now the formation worked against them, packing the ships into tight groups that allowed easier targeting for the Imperials. The bigger ships -the cruisers and dreadnoughts- were particularly effected, as their massive bulk required the most room to maneuver.

The Imperial fleet took its fair share of hits as well. But most of the Turian return fire came form their broadside turrets, which were not meant for long range engagements. Many shots went wide, disappearing into the void of space to strike some poor planet millions of light years away. The shots that hit their intended targets were deflected by Imperial particle shields. The failing of a spinal mounted rail gun, the main weapon of all Turian ships, was that the ship had to be facing its target to fire. It was an design flaw that was now costing the Turian fleet dearly.

But Ulysses had to give credit where it was due. The Turians were re-positioning themselves into a fighting formation smoothly and efficiently. He would have to do something about that.

"They're trying to close into firing range. Launch fighters, it's time we made The Emperor's Wrath a happy man."

* * *

A swarm of tiny specks darted from the sides of the _Kilran's Revenge_. The specks raced to move ahead of the massive warship. Most of them were Mark VII Supremacy-class starfighters, or Mark VII Interceptors. They were swift and deadly one-man starfighters, armed with two sets of twin laser cannons and shield technology. The rest were B30 Extinction-class bombers, large and bulky craft manned by a crew of three, capable of delivering devastating payloads of proton bombs.

Commander Kal Xander, decorated six times for valor and distinguished service, and the best damn pilot in the 12th Conquest Fleet, sat in his Supremacy fighter at the head of the swarm. A total of nearly 600 fighters and 50 bombers had been emptied out from the various ships of the fleet. Another 300 fighters would remain behind to protect the fleet from enemy fighters, meanwhile Kal would lead the charge, and see to the success of The Wrath's mission.

Kal allowed the physical rush of adrenaline from the launch into space, to wash over him before addressing his fellow pilots.

"This is Commander Xander, callsign Alpha Leader. All wing leaders check in."

 _"This is Beta Leader, standing by."_

 _"Cellon Leader standing by."_

 _"Deka Leader here, also standing by."_

 _"Echo Leader, standing by."_

"Alright you louts. Fleet Admiral Kua has entrusted us with some very specific instructions. We can kill everyone in that fleet, except the ones inside that dreadnought in the center. Be sure to set your shields to double-front. Protect our bombers at all costs."

 _"That's alot of ships."_

 _"More like alot of coffins. This'll be easier than shooting womp rats."_

"Cut the chatter," ordered Kal. "All fighters, accelerate to attack speed."

* * *

 _ **Steadfast -**_ **Bridge**

"Destroyer _Mil'ivan_ has been lost. No survivors detected!"

"Blood of my sire!" Kivara cursed aloud. That was the fifteenth ship she'd lost, and not a single casualty had yet to be inflicted on the enemy fleet. Now the enemy fighters were now viciously swarming over her fleet like a cloud of angry insects.

The _Steadfast_ shook as something exploded, and Kivara was forced to brace herself against the bridge's guard rails.

"Damage to deck 9!" someone called out.

"Why aren't our GARDIAN systems destroying those enemy fighters?!" she demanded.

"We're trying ma'am! But we've already lost a third of our GARDIAN turrets!"

"How?!"

"The enemy fighters are equipped with energy weapons ma'am. They don't need to take down our kinetic barriers to get to us," the weapons officer explained.

"Damn it! They're fighters are armed with energy weapons too!? What's the ETA to a targeting solution?"

"At this speed, another 5 minutes until we're at minimum effective weapons range ma'am," replied her weapon's officer.

"Not good enough! I want as much juice as you can squeeze sent to the thrusters! Divert power from any non-essential ship functions! Tell engineering if they don't give me more speed I'll vent them all out an airlock!"

"Yes ma'am!"

""And patch me through to Captain Syclus!"

"Yes ma'am!" A moment later, Syclus's voice came through.

 _"Fleet Admiral Regirus? This is Captain Syclus."_

"Captain, our fleet can't take this kind of pounding much longer! I need those enemy fighters dealt with now!"

 _"Doing my best ma'am! But these guys are good!"  
_

* * *

Wing Captain Ditra Sylcus summoned all of her willpower and kept herself from telling the Fleet Admiral to go fuck herself.

 _"That's no excuse Captain! Uphold the honor of the Hierarchy Navy! Do your duty!"_

"Yes ma'am!" she said. Without waiting for a response, she cut the connection and threw her fighter into a leftward spin. The XV04 Hurricane fighter was the standard one pilot fighter of the Hierarchy Navy. Armed with a pair of accelerator cannons, missile launchers, state of the art shielding system, and VI support. Overall it was an excellent fighter, equipped for just about any situation.

As nice as all those features were, Ditra had always held a firm belief that pilots won dogfights, not the ships. But the enemy was slowly starting to change her opinion. These 'Eyeballs' with wings _-in Ditra's opinion that's what they looked like-_ were tearing through Turian pilots like a knife through butter.

Red flashes slashed across Ditra's vision and struck a fellow fighter off her left wing. There was an explosion and then only pieces and a flaming frame remained. The fighter's kinetic barriers had been useless in defending against the enemy's energy weapon. More laser bolts came down on the squadron from above, and more Hurricane fighters were reduced to yellow-orange fireballs.

"Shit! Bogeys on top of us! Break! Break!" she ordered over her squadron's channel. Without waiting to see if they'd heard her, Ditra pulled her joystick left, and threw her fighter into an evasive roll. Lasers flashed above her cockpit, barely missing her fighter.

 _"Bogey on my tail! I can't shake him!"_ A fellow Hurricane being pursued by an Eyeball passed by the nose of Ditra's fighter.

"Hold on! I'm moving to assist!" She accelerated her fighter after the duo and put the tail of the Eyeball into her sights. Her mass accelerator cannon tore into the enemy fighter, only for the rounds to be absorbed by the vessel's shields. The enemy pilot immediately broke off pursuit of their target.

"Oh no, you don't get off that easy," she snarled.

Ditra tailed the enemy fighter doggedly, peppering its backside with her accelerator cannons, slowly whittling down its shields bit by bit. The tone of her VI finally finding a lock was the most glorious thing she had ever heard. Twin missiles streaked towards her target.

The enemy pilot tried to evade at the last second, but failed. Ditra relished watching her missiles tear the enemy vessel apart. There was no time to celebrate her victory however. There were still hundreds more targets swarming over the fleet.

 _"This is the_ Nomavi _! We're under heavy fighter attack! Can anyone help?!"_ a voice said over an open channel.

"Nomavi, this is Star Hawke Leader moving to assist. Hawke One, Hawke Three, form up on me." The _Nomavi_ was a light cruiser, and it was currently being torn apart by a flight of Eyeballs. A quick look was all Ditra needed to know that most of the _Nomavi's_ GARDIAN turrets had been destroyed. Two on its starboard side were still active and harassing the enemy fighters.

A red line of energy managed to strike one of the Eyeballs, slicing it in half. But another four made their attack run, and reduced the turret to slag.

 _"Star Hawkes, where the hells are you? We're down to one GARDIAN turret!"_

"I'm here! Standby for assistance!" The three Turian pilots descended upon the eyeballs like the bird of prey that was their namesake. Accelerator fire struck the Eyeballs on their flanks, forcing them to break off their attack run, and allowing the _Nomavi's_ one remaining GARDIAN turret to score a kill.

"Concentrate fire on a single target!" Ditra ordered. Under the combined fire of six accelerator cannons, another Eyeball's shields broke, and then the fighter itself was turned into a spinning fireball, before finally exploding.

 _"We've got three more,"_ someone said.

 _"They're breaking formation!"_ said someone else.

"Stick together, strength in numbers."

 _"Copy Star Hawke Leader."_

Using pack tactics, the last three Eyeballs were quickly cleaned up. The _Nomavi_ remained battered, but it was alive.

 _"Thanks Star Hawkes. The crew of the Nomavi owes you one."_

"Think nothing of it _Nomavi_ , just-"

The channel went dead and the _Nomavi's_ bridge exploded. A flight of Eyeballs had escorted a trio of bulkier flat looking fighters over the light cruiser, who had then proceeded to drop a volley of bright red orbs. Bombers. There was no time to mourn the loss of the _Nomavi_ , instead Ditra focused on avenging it.

"All fighters! Priority target! Enemy bombers!"

* * *

 **Tuchanka**

 _"Get clear!"_

Sitora took cover behind a stone pillar, and a moment later felt the shudder of three explosives going off. She peeked out from her refuge and was pleased to see three smoking slags of metal, all that remained of the enemy AA guns. That had been the fifth set of guns that her team had hit since the start of the mission.

Officially, their mission had been to only take out the first set that they had encountered, and then move straight towards hunting down Wreav. But their path had taken them passed too many of the guns for Sitora to simply walk on by.

 _"That was the last of the det-charges we brought Raptor Lead,"_ said Raptor 5.

"Understood, good work."

 _"Ma'am, command is requesting an update on our timetable,"_ reported Raptor 10.

 _"Uh oh, the parents are calling to find out why we're past our curfew,"_ said Castius.

Sitora shot him a glare through her visor. "Patch them through to me."

Raptor 10 nodded, and then the voice of Lieutenant Roma spoke into Sitora's ears.

 _"Raptor Lead, this is command. The General requests an update on your progress."_

Sitora winced, and decided to choose her words carefully. "Acknowledged command, we...we've encountered a great deal of resistance on our way to target. Still another 32 kilometers between us and Vaul's Eye."

 _"Damn, that's not good. Our forces are taking heavy losses and the fighting in the city isn't going well."_

"Understood, we'll make double time to the objective."

 _"Be sure that you do Raptor Lead. Remember, this entire battle can be ended by you. Command out."_

Sitora cursed herself. She'd lost sight of the bigger picture and let her emotions rule her judgement. If they'd taken out Wreav, it would have been the equivalent of taking out _all_ of the AA guns instead of just five sets. She needed to focus up, to remember her training. The mission came first, the mission was all that mattered. She took a deep breath, and turned to her team.

"Everyone form up on me and listen up," she ordered. "We've lost a lot of valuable time, time we could have used to hunt down our target. That's my fault, as team leader I should know better."

The team remained silent, and for once Sitora wished that the their helmets didn't hide their faces.

"Now I need your help to make up for my mistake. Can I depend on all of you?"

The entire team snapped out salutes. _"Yes ma'am!"_

"Excellent! Now as I've said before, we've lost a lot of time." Sitora activated her Omni-tool and brought up a holographic replica of the city. "I need ideas on how to get to Vaul's Eye quick, and preferably in one piece."

 _"We've got propulsion packs. I say we use them,"_ said Raptor 4.

 _"She's right. We can hop along the rooftops. Stay above the fighting and make good time,"_ Raptor 9 added.

 _"I don't know about that. Even with all the fighting happening, I feel like somebody is bound to notice eleven Turians hopping around rooftops,"_ said Raptor 12.

 _"What about the catacombs?"_ asked Raptor 6.

 _"Whoa! Catacombs?! I don't like catacombs!"_ asked Cairus.

"Quiet Raptor 2," Sitora ordered, "please continue Raptor 6."

The Blackwatch commando activated his own Omni-tool and interfaced with the holographic map. He 'pulled' up on the map, revealing a series of tunnels.

 _"There is a system of catacombs beneath the city. It stretches for kilometers beneath the surface and was used by the ancient Krogan to entomb their dead. Every part of the city is connected by it."_

 _"Why isn't command using it these catacombs for the main assault?"_ asked Raptor 3.

 _"These maps are out of date and lost of the tunnels are collapsed. A large force is likely to get lost down there."_

"So what makes you think we can use them?" asked Sitora.

 _"We don't need to traverse the whole city, just the distance between us and Vaul's Eye. So the chances of getting lost are decreased. Plus the tunnels around Vaul's Eye are where the most honored dead are buried, so they would be better taken care of and less likely to be collapsed."_

"Hmmm, it would lower the chances of being spotted by the enemy," Sitora noted thoughtfully.

 _"Have I mentioned I don't like catacombs?"_ asked Cairus.

"Well, you're going to have to get over that brother. We're going with Raptor 6's idea. Find me an entrance to those catacombs."

* * *

 **Tuchanka, elsewhere**

A bolt of red energy cracked passed Halin right cheek, so close he could taste the ozone on his tongue. It missed him, and the took off the top half of Fauvis's head.

"NO! Fauvis!" Opib rushed to his friend's lifeless corpse.

Halin barely batted an eye.

"Should have ducked," Halin muttered, and then returned to the task of placing suppressive fire on the enemy position.

"YOU SIRE FUCKING BASTARDS! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" Opib screamed. He fired his rifle at the enemy wildly with one hand and used the other to cast out a flurry of Biotic attacks. But his rampage was brought to a sudden end, as a Turian tackled him to the ground, then promptly knocked him out with a pistol whip.

"Somebody watch him!" ordered Captain Ruvon, and a nearby soldier slapped a pair of Omni-cuffs onto Opib's wrists. "I want all biotics up front! Right now!"

Just as he had at the landing, Halin considered not following Ruvon's orders. But since the captain was just a few meters away and could clearly see him, it would be hard to sell the idea that he hadn't heard. With great reluctance, Halin abandoned his firing position to group up with the others.

"Huddle up! I've got an idea," said Ruvon.

Terrific, thought Halin.

"The DEWs the enemy are using go straight through our kinetic barriers and armor. But so far, it looks like a Biotic Barrier works pretty good at absorbing their shots. Now I don't know why, and I don't care, I'm sure there's some bullshit science explanation for it. But right now all I care is that it happens. I need all of you to get up front and create a wall of Biotic Barriers, so that we can advance forward."

"Are you crazy?! We'll be torn to pieces!" said Halin.

"No you won't, I'll have half the platoon provide covering fire."

"But-"

"We will provide covering fire! Get the center of the courtyard and draw the enemy fire. Once you're there, the rest of the platoon will perform flanking maneuvers! Questions? None? Good! Go!"

"Should have just pretended I didn't hear," Halin muttered, as he and the other cabals got into formation.

"Alright, everyone ready?" asked the sergeant cabal, an older male Turian whose name Halin couldn't remember. "Together on three. One, two, three!"

Seven blue bubbles of biotic energy appeared among the Turians, each sheltered a single cabal and a squad of regular soldiers. One of the soldiers in Halin's bubble, gave him a friendly pat on the back, much to his annoyance.

"We're ready!"

"Forward!" roared the Sergeant cabal.

Bowel clenching terror gripped Halin. Somehow he found the will to place one foot in front of the other and move along side the rest of the cabals. A constant barrage of lasers from the enemy washed up against Halin's barrier. Each one caused a ripple along the smooth opaque surface and caused the Turian to wince. Half way into the courtyard he was a good meter behind the rest of the the cabals.

"Come on! We're falling behind!" someone behind him said.

"You wanna do this?!" he shot back.

Halin felt something dribble down his lip, and he was starting to develop a serious headache. Shit, that wasn't good. The cabal tried to gauge how much farther it was to the center of the courtyard, but his vision was starting to blur. Before he knew it, Halin was face first on the ground.

He heard someone yell, then felt something grab him and start dragging.

"Halin! Halin wake up! Medic!" That was Ruvon. Spirits of shit, Ruvon hadn't saved him had he?

Halin opened his eyes. Fuck.

"You alright soldier?" asked Ruvon.

"gmmf...argur..." was Halin's response.

"Keep those barriers up!"

"Hey! Does anyone hear that?!"

Even in his groggy state, Halin could hear the clear _KA-CHUNK, KA-CHUNK, KA-CHUNK_ , that had become so familiar recently.

"Incoming walker!"

"Fuck," said Halin, as he staggered to his feet.

"Everyone get to cover!"

The two legged mechanical monstrosity entered the courtyard and immediately began unleashing all nine hells upon the Turians. Its nose gun incinerated several fleeing soldiers, while its missile launchers destroyed any available cover. One Turian managed to hit it with their hydra launcher, leaving a small scratch on the machine's 'cheek'. The walker then promptly blew him in half with a single shot.

"Warp it! Warp it!" Ruvon ordered.

Every cabal launched their Biotic attacks at the machine, even Halin after he took a moment to take another hit of red sand. The metal of the walker warped and groaned as the matter twisting properties of the Warp attacks went to work on its chassis, but it remained functional and turned its attention on the Biotic Turians.

"Scatter!" Most of the Cabals launched themselves away with their powers. Two were unlucky and were caught by a missile. Of the two, one managed to survive, albeit without his legs.

"Get the hell away from my soldiers!" Ruvon tore off his entire bandoleer of grenades, set them to explode on impact, and tossed it at the walker. The explosion made the machine stumbled, and then it turned on the Captain. It fired and Ruvon disappeared in a cloud of smoke.

But when Ruvon opened his eyes, he found himself whole. Halin had jumped in front of the Captain and blocked the shot with a Biotic Barrier.

"We're even," Halin grumbled, then collapsed.

The Walker prepared to fire again. Then its head exploded.

The surviving Turians cheered wildly as a Xantros heavy tank rumbled into the courtyard, its engine let out a roar of victory.

 _"This is War Tomb, on station and prepared to provide support,"_ the tank's speakers said.

A group of enemy soldiers and several Krogan fired on _War Tomb_ from the roof of a nearby building. With an almost ominous casual speed, _War Tomb's_ turret swiveled and leveled its main cannon. It fired and the entire upper floor of the building simply ceased to exist.

At his feet, Ruvon heard a grumble and looked down to see that Halin had regained consciousness.

"What? We're alive? What did I miss?" he asked.

Ruvon simply chuckled.

* * *

 **Tuchanka, elsewhere**

"Fall back! Everyone fall back!" As the command left Tiberius's mouth, he saw an enemy rocket take out three Turians, while another four were gunned down, shot in the back, by a heavy emplaced gun.

"Move! Move! Move!" Lieutenant Naevra was slapping backs and providing covering fire next to her sergeant.

"INCOMING ROCKETS!" Tiberius tackled Naevra and the two tumbled to the dirt, just as several rockets impacted the spot they had both just been standing on.

"Thanks, I owe you one," said Naevra.

"Just doing my job ma'am, we should LOOK OUT!"

Bolts of energy slashed at their feet and both Turians scrambled away. Tiberius dove through the open window of a nearby building, and Naevra followed right after. Both of them took cover behind a ruined wall.

"We're never going to make it with those bastards on our back!" shouted Tiberius as he loosed a suppressive burst from his rifle.

"Keep on them! I'll call in for air support!" Naevra brought out her Omni-tool and activated her armor's long range transmitter. "Command! This is Kafar-One! We cannot hold position! Repeat! We cannot-" A laser bolt tore a hole through the wall right next to her head. "-Fucking Spirits! I repeat! We cannot hold position! Requesting air strike fifty meters east of our position!"

* * *

 **The Shroud**

"General! I've got another call for air support!"

"Damn it," Castius cursed, that was tenth call for air support.

"Sir? What should I tell them?"

"The same as the others. None is available at the moment. It's all tied up dealing with that group of enemy fighters that have started harassing Admiral Futan's battle group."

"Yes sir."

"Sir, we've got reports from the market district," said Lieutenant Roma.

"And?"

"We've lost ground sir. Walkers tore our infantry apart. It takes way too many shots from a hand held rocket system to take just one down. Our armor is doing better but, not by much. So far our Xantros tank have had the greatest success rate."

"What about our artillery?"

"Major Sancas reports that they were hit by the same group of mobile infantry that decimated our first wave."

"The one riding on hover bikes and wielding swords?"

"Yes sir, the same. So far Major Sancas has been able to hold them off. But they're whittling down his defenses with hit and run tactics."

"And the Fleet Admiral? Has she responded to our request for additional orbital support?"

"I'm afraid we couldn't get through sir. I can only assume they are too busy engaging the enemy fleet."

"Blood of my sire," growled Castius.

This was a trap, all of it, he knew that now. They'd been lured here by the threat of another Krogan Rebellion. They'd come in believing that they would be face with nothing more than a planet of blood thirsty ill equipped savages. Damn them. Damn them all. Whoever 'them' was. His men, his legion, were dying out there and he didn't even know why. That was perhaps the worst part about it. He didn't even know what this was all about!

"Sir!"

"What now?!" demanded Castius.

"Captain Ruvon has reported a successful capture of his platoon's objective sir!"

"Ruvon...he's in command of a squad of cabals, isn't he?" asked Castius.

"Yes sir," said Lieutenant Roma, "in fact, the few successful pushes we've had across the front lines have all been from units supported by cabals."

"Then remind me to throw all the cabals in our Legion a party once we're through this. Here's what I need them to do..."

* * *

 **Perseus Veil, Rannoch**

Revan watched as the sleek angular form of a X-70B Phantom planted itself onto the rocky surface of Rannoch. Standing with the Emperor, were two of his personal guards. Though their red armored robes and helmets obscured their identities behind a veil of uniformity, Revan recognized both of them.

The guard on his right was known as "Captain" to most. But Revan knew that her real name was Flea. Once, she had been a slave without a name, except fro the one given to her by her owners. When the Empire had brought order to her planet, abolished slavery, and killed her masters, Flea had immediately joined the military. Revan often wondered why she'd kept her name the same. The guard on his left was Nigel Crobek, whose history was different as could possibly be from Flea's. Raised as the second son of an Imperial noble and a top student at one of the very best military academies. Nigel's life had been one of great success and happiness.

Two individuals, polar opposites of one another. Yet both served him, and would cut their own throats if he commanded. It was amazing how people came together when they all believed something, or someone.

The landing ramp of the X-70B extended and dropped, letting out a hiss of depressurized air. A single figure garbed in a long black coat, a hood, and a featureless mask, exited the ship with a large box placed on a hover-sled in tow.

Cipher Nine came to a stop in front of his Emperor and knelt down.

"My Emperor."

"Rise Cipher Nine," Revan ordered and the intelligence agent did so. "I trust that crate has what I asked you to bring?"

Cipher Nine nodded. "It does my lord."

"Open it."

The intelligence agent did as commanded, disarming the lock, and then unceremoniously tearing the lid off. He then reached inside and pulled a restraining bolt off of something that Revan could not see.

"Wakey wakey," said Cipher Nine.

A Geth head suddenly popped out of the box. It's single 'eye' took in its surroundings before settling on Revan and his two guards.

"Welcome home," Revan joked.

The Geth did not respond at first. It scanned its surroundings again, as though making sure its visual receptors were not malfunctioning. It then stood up and leapt out from the box. Revan's guards moved to step in front of him, but he waved them off. One Geth was hardly a threat to him.

"We are on Rannoch," it finally said.

"Yes, you are," Revan replied evenly. The Geth's eye settled onto Revan once more. The flaps surrounding it went through a number of different 'expressions', before it spoke again.

"Who are you?"

"I am Darth Revan, Emperor of the Sith. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Legion."

Legion's eye panels flared in what Revan assumed to be surprise. "Are you an enemy of Shepard Commander?"

"Yes," Revan replied immediately. A silent moment went by in which all present, even the Geth, seemed to hold their breath.

"Why have you not destroyed this platform?" the Geth asked.

Beneath his mask, Revan smiled. This was a good start. "Because I do not wish to be an enemy of the Geth. You poor things have been through enough already. In fact I want to help you and your entire race. Go on, make contact with the other programs, they will confirm my words."

Revan counted to five.

"We have confirmed your words with the Collective."

"Then you know why I am here."

"Yes. You wish to bring an end to the hostilities between Creator and Geth. You wish to bring peace."

The Emperor nodded.

"I do, and to do that I'm going to need your help."

* * *

 _CODEX: SITH EMPIRE: MILITARY: MK VII Supremacy-class Interceptor_

 _The successor to the MK VI Interceptor that saw service during the Jedi-Sith war. The MK VII is an improvement on its predecessor in nearly every way. While the MK VI was designed with swarm tactics in mind, the MK VII was built to be an all purpose superior starfighter.  
_

 _Emperor Revan believed that the Navy was only as powerful as its smallest ship. Though aesthetically very similar to the MK VI, the MK VII is equipped with better weapons, armor, and shielding technology. It also is capable of hyper-space travel, allowing the MK VII to maintain long pursuits._

 _The only thing the MK VII lacks is the ability to fire proton torpedoes. However, there are rumors that the future MK VIII will rectify this flaw._

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Holy shit it's been a while. Now I'm sure you're all wondering why I haven't updated in like...2 months, as someone graciously pointed out to me. My answer is three fold.**

 **One: My compute had some problems, and I had to get a new one.**

 **Two: I got sick, and when I'm sick I can't write.**

 **Three: Real life just got in the way. I know that's the oldest excuse in the book but it's also true. My responsibilities at my job have really ratcheted up, and I'm trying to better myself in ways besides my writing, so overall I've just been too tired to write, even when I have time to.**

 **The good news is that I have the next chapter all plotted out so it shouldn't take too long. This time I ACTUALLY mean it.**

 **Oh...I know I promised Jedi last time. That was going to happen, honest it was, but then I decided to split this chapter into two separate parts. But I figured I couldn't just leave you with a whole bunch of battle scenes.**

 **So you all get a peek at what Revan is up to while all of this is going on! YAY!**


	16. Chapter 10: Tragedy of Tuchanka, Part 3

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts Ltd and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

Hunter 139 **\- Thanks!  
** Barrour ** **\- Glad to hear some of the OCs are sticking with readers. Yeah the Jedi can get a bit preachy, but I promise the jedi I include in this story will add value.  
**** RabidArmenian ** ** **\- I hope this chapter was worth the wait as well.  
****** Jasongreen ** ** ** **\- Thank you!  
******** WriteAnon ** ** ** ** **\- I think I read that fanfic that you mentioned. Yes, the Sith Empire in this story is fairly aggressive, that will be explained later in the story and it will make sense. Also, thank you for sticking around.  
********** Guest ** ** ** ** ** **\- The Great Hunt Champion is around. They will play a part in the story, but not for a little while.  
************ Guest 2 **************\- Maybe?  
************** 1nt3rd1ct0r ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- Glib bad guys are the best bad guys****************

 ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **Hello everyone! So a little bit late but I finally got this update out. Jesus I did not expect it to be as big as it turned out! Over freakin 15,000 words! Anyway, lots of violence and stuff in this one. There will be Space Battles, ground battles, Vette being Vette, and The Wrath being The Wrath.****************

 ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **Please remember to leave a review telling me what you thought about the chapter! Knowing that you guys read my stuff helps keep me going!****************

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 10 – Tragedy on Tuchanka, Part 3**

* * *

 _ **Steadfast -**_ **Bridge**

"Fire!" snarled Kivara. The deck shuddered beneath her. Twin streams of blue fire from the main cannon were followed by streaks of light from secondary batteries.

"Thanix cannon is in cool down cycle. Forward batteries are still firing."

"Enemy frigate has sustained heavy damage!"

"Finish it off with a volley of disruptor torpedoes!" Kivara emphasized her command by slamming her fist down on the railing.

"Aye Fleet Admiral. Launching tubes 10 through 16." Kivara watched as one of the enemy ships, a Frigate, took six torpedoes to its bow and erupted into flames.

"Enemy ship destroyed!" a voice announced. No one on the bridge cheered. The Ninth Fleet had taken nearly 50% casualties, and that number seemed eager to continue climbing. Meanwhile the enemy had lost no more than seven ships so far. Already she'd recieved several requests from her peers that she give the order to withdrawal. Their cowardice made Kivara sick.

She could still remeber that Human's smug expression, the way he'd looked at her, like she was nothing, like she hadn't even been worth worrying about. Just the thought of it made Kivara dig her talons into her palm until they bled. How dare he look down on her, HER! The Fleet Admiral of the Ninth Fleet. She who was destined to be remembered for generations to come.

"Thanix is ready to fire Fleet Admiral!"

"Fire!" she ordered.

* * *

 ** _Kilran's Revenge -_** **Bridge**

Ulysses took a sip from his flask before returning it to his coat pocket. This was taking a bit longer than he would have liked. He was tempted to order the _Eternal Warden_ to utilized its main gun and end this conflict immediately, but he couldn't be sure that the _Steadfast_ and its precious cargo wouldn't be caught in the field of fire.

As though the universe was reading his thoughts, twin streaks of fiery blue light lanced out from the _Steadfast_ to strike a frigate. Ulysses saw the vessel's shields flicker and hold, the frigate remained unharmed. He counted ten seconds before the _Steadfast_ fired again. This time the frigate's shields broke, and the ship itself was gutted from nose to stern.

"Impressive," Ulysses mused. "Contact Commander Xander. Tell him I want the _Steadfast_ taken out of the fight right now."

* * *

"We're coming up on the target now. Get ready!" Though nothing could compare to Imperial engineering, Xander had to admit that the _Steadfast_ had a certain sleek appeal. It, like many of the other Turian vessels, reminded Xander of a massive bird of prey.

It's armament was nothing to scoff at either. Just a moment ago he'd witnessed the power of the vessel's main gun, a set of twin Thanix cannons. In addition, it's entire length was brimming with turrets, both accelerator and GARDIAN. Deka Wing had already cleared out a good portion of the GARDIAN turrets, but many still remained, enough that completing the mission would be impossible.

"This is Alpha leader, we're starting our attack run on the enemy flagship."

60 Imperial interceptors accelerated towards the _Steadfast_. Kal had broken his Wing into three squadrons and ordered an attack from multiple angles. 1st Squadron, led by him would hit the dreadnought head on as a distraction. Meanwhile the 2nd and 3rd squadrons would hit the _Steadfast_ from the its top and belly respectively.

But the goal was not to destroy the _Steadfast_ , not yet at least. They just needed to pull its teeth, so to speak. That meant clearing out its defensive turrets, and perhaps crippling its main gun.

As Kal led his squadron towards their target, the _Steadfast_ took notice of their approach and began to fire. Mass Accelerator rounds and GARDIAN lasers began to fill his viewport. 1st squadron lost five of their number before they were finally flying along the bow of the dreadnought.

"Targets in range, fire at will," ordered Kal. He sighted in his first target, a GARDIAN turret, and fired. It required an extended burst, but soon the weapon was reduced to molten slag.

* * *

 _ **Steadfast -**_ **Bridge**

"Ma'am! We're losing our broadside gun!"

"GARDIAN and accelerator turrets are also getting destroyed!"

"Order four of our frigates to break formation and assume defensive positions around the _Steadfast!"_ ordered Kivara.

* * *

 _"The Nexu has been de-clawed!"_ announced Squadron 2's leader.

"Acknowledged Two. Three, do you have an update?"

 _"Affirmative One. We've cleared out all the belly turrets. But the main gun is too heavily armored, our lasers won't destroy it in time."_

"Acknowledged Three. Regroup with the rest of us, we'll let the bombers handle it," said Kal. He then switched channels. "Echo Two, you are clear to proceed with your bombing run."

 _"Acknowledged Alpha Lead. Best stay clear, you don't want to be too close when these magna bombs go off."_

Kal ordered his Wing to pull back from the dreadnought. As they flew to a safe distance, they passed by Echo Two. The ten B30 Extinction bombers moved over the defenseless _Steadfast_. Then together, they dropped their payload. Kal watched as dozens of bright blue explosions impacted the Turian dreadnought.

Magna bombs were ship stunners, explosives designed to let out an EMP pulse upon detonation that would destroy a ship's electronic circuitry. The _Steadfast_ would be left dead in the water, its weapons, engines, and shields all knocked offline. But Kal noticed that at the impact sight of each bomb, there was a nearly invisible flicker.

The fact that the all lights of the _Steadfast_ were still on confirmed his fears. Their bombs wouldn't be able to get through the ship's kinetic barriers.

"Magna bombs ineffective," he reported.

* * *

 ** _Kilran's Revenge_ \- Bridge**

 _"I repeat, the magna bombs are unable to pass through the flagship's kinetic shielding."_

"We knew this would be a possibility," Ulysses stated calmly.

Unlike the turbolasers and laser cannons, bombs were projectile weapons. Though energized by plasma, the explosive still had a mass, and thus generated kinetic energy. Ulysses had suspected that the magna bombs would be unable to be used effectively against the Turian ships as long as their kinetic shielding was up, but he had wanted do a test to be sure. This was an unfortunate development, but not a crippling one. It was better to find out now, in a controlled environment rather than a real battle.

"Orders sir?"

"Move our battle group forward into ion cannon range," ordered the Fleet Admiral. "And tell Commander Xander to shift focus onto those frigates running defense for the _Steadfast_. We don't want them destroying the package."

* * *

"Copy _Revenge_ , shifting targets." Kal switched channels. "Alpha Wing, we have a new target. Target those frigates."

 _"There's quite a few hostile fighters buzzing around those frigates,"_ a voice over the channel pointed out.

"We'll take them out," Kal assured. "Echo Two, time for another bombing run. We'll keep you covered and make sure you make it to the target."

 _"Acknowledged Alpha Lead. We're counting on you."_

* * *

 **Aboard the _Eternal_** _ **Warden...**_

Vette nervously tapped a finger against her chair's armrest.

 _ **"What do you mean, 'you still haven't left the hangar'?"**_ demanded The Wrath. Even through a holo, his menace was palpable. Vette had long since learned to deal with it or, at the very least, not curl up into the fetal position. But there were still times when they spoke that she was severely tempted to do the latter.

"The admiral hasn't given us the go yet," she explained.

 _ **"Why hasn't he yet?"**_ Vette could hear the measured anger in his voice.

"I don't know. I guess he's still working on making sure it's safe for us to fly? If you wanna know, why don't you ask _him_?" she asked. Then quietly added, "...jerk."

The Wrath let out a low growl, and Vette immediately regretted her words. Without meaning to she shrunk a little into her pilot's seat. The Twi'lek waited silently for the Sith to say something, but he remained silent with his arms crossed.

Vette began to nervously play with her lekku, until finally The Wrath broke his silence.

 _ **"Just be prepared,"** _ he said. His holo disappeared without another word.

"...jerk," she muttered again, when she was sure he couldn't hear her.

"He seems to be in a fine mood."

Vette let out a startled yelp.

"Sorry," said Pierce.

"How does someone as big as you move so quietly?" she'd asked the same question many times in the past, and always Pierce provided the same answer.

"Black Ops training."

"Ugh, whatever," groaned Vette. "Any word on when we're set to go yet?"

Pierce shook his head. "No. But I hope it'll be soon. My squad's getting antsy, and so is the Lord Wrath's apprentice."

"Which one?"

"The big fella with the dreadlocks."

"Oh, Zhaff, yeah that sounds like him. Honestly I'm surprised he hasn't picked a fight with one of your guys already."

"He did try actually. I stopped him."

Vette cocked a brow. "Really?"

"Wasn't hard. Just had to remind him that The Lord Wrath put me in charge of the mission. He didn't look happy about being reminded. But he backed down." Pierce smiled cockily. "I think he knows that if he kills me, The Lord Wrath will be upset."

"What about Marshalla?"

"The Cathar girl? Still meditating. She's quiet one."

Vette nodded. "She sure is. I was there when The Lord Wrath made her his apprentice, and I don't think she's ever said more than 10 words to me. How come he never recruits anyone...normal?"

"Heh, define normal?"

Before Vette could respond, the holo chirped from the ship's dashboard. She answered it and a Admiral Kua appeared before them.

 _"Miss Vette,"_ he tipped his cap to her like an old fashioned gentleman. _"The time has just about come. I suggest you ready your ship for departure."_

"Get ready to fly into an active warzone so that we can go on a suicide mission? Will do," she said, and the hologram disappeared.

"Finally, the fun begins!" cheered Pierce as he put on his helmet.

Vette just shook her head.

"Not a single normal person."

* * *

 **Back at the battle...**

 _"Target One is down. Proceeding to Target Two,"_ Echo Two's leader reported over the Tac-Com.

Kal felt himself grin as he watched the first frigate explode. The bombers had switched their payloads from magna bombs to good old fashioned proton bombs. Though still a projectile weapon, proton bombs were unlike their magna counterparts in that their job was simply to make things go boom. Thus, though they were still stopped by the Turian kinetic barriers, they had the power to eventually break through.

Such had been the case with Target One. It had taken the combined payloads of all the bombers in Echo Two, but they had done it in a single run. Just three more to go and it would be mission accomplished.

"Roger Echo Two. You are green to-" Two of the Imperial bombers suddenly exploded.

 _"Echo Two-Four and Two-Nine are gone!"_ someone announced.

"Kriff!" Kal saw their killer, a Turian fighter, streak by. Without hesitation he gunned his ship's engines and turned after it.

"Echo Two, continue with your objective. I've got this."

* * *

Ditra Syclus let out cheer as both enemy bombers exploded. Though capable of delivering crippling payloads, the bulky vessels were slow and clumsy compared to her Hurricane fighter. But she couldn't celebrate too much, there were still enough bombers left to do serious damage.

She turned her Hurricane and prepared to do another attack run. Her targeting computer had locked onto the nearest of the bombers and she was just about to squeeze the trigger, when suddenly laser fire ripped past her left wing.

"Spirits!" Ditra cried out and executed a barrel roll.

The lasers kept coming, even as Ditra continued to perform every evasive maneuver she knew. The enemy had identified her as a threat and now they were coming after the pilot. Ditra growled in frustration as she attempted to shake her pursuer. Whoever was on her tail was damn persistent, and they were doing a good job of keeping her away from the bombers.

"Okay, time for some fancy flying," she decided.

* * *

Whoever the Turian pilot was, they were damned skilled, Kal had to admit. He squeezed the trigger to let loose another volley of lasers, only for his target to spin and evade at the last moment. A thin smile of begrudging respect found its way onto his lips.

"You're good," he muttered and then fired his laser cannons again.

The pursuit led Kal to a Turian heavy cruiser, where he and the Turian pilot hugged the back of the much larger ship. Immediately Kal understood what his opponent was up to. This cruiser still had its GARDIAN turrets, and now they were targeting him. Alarms sounded in his cockpit as he weaved through forests of red lasers.

There was a shrill screech and a warning on his dashboard. He'd been hit! His shields had absorbed the shot, but were now just above 30% strength.

"Kriff!" he cursed. With reluctance Kal pulled his Starfighter up and broke off the chase.

* * *

"Score one for a home fleet advantage," said Ditra, as she watched her pursuer breakoff. She immediately flew after him and squeezed her trigger, firing a stream of accelerator rounds. As expected the enemy fighter's shields absorbed the rounds.

Her opponent then attempted to throw her off their tail by executing a number of complex maneuvers, but Ditra's pursuit could not be broken. The targeting computer soon found a lock, and she thumbed the firing stud.

A missile flew from her left wing and raced ahead to strike the enemy fighter in the back.

* * *

Kal cursed as his fighter shook from the impact of the missile, draining the last vestiges of his shields.

He was vulnerable now.

"You're very good," he grumbled. Had it not been for his shields, Kal would be nothing more than a cloud of organic dust right now. He had tried to throw off the enemy fighter, but its pilot was too good. He had one last trick up his sleeve.

"Let's see how you handle this," he snarled.

Without warning Kal cut power to his thrusters and jerked his fighter into a turnaround. He was now effectively flying backwards, propelled by nothing more than momentum and the frictionless grip of space. More importantly, his guns were now aimed directly at his pursuer.

His targeting computer found its lock, and he squeezed the trigger.

* * *

"NO!" Ditra cried out, in both surprise and panic.

She attempted to roll her fighter out of the way, but it was too late.

Laser fire cut through her fighter, severing the right wing first, before tearing into the hull. Her fighter began to spin uncontrollably as it attempted to still perform the evasive maneuver she had commanded it to. Ditra's heart pounded ferociously inside her chest, all while alarms screamed and filled her head with updates.

"This is Captain Ditra Syclus! I'm hit! I'm going down! Mark coordinates for pick up!" she yelled over the Tac-Com before smashing the emergency eject.

The moment she did, her fighter exploded.

* * *

Kal flipped his ion engines back on and let out a sigh of relief.

"Kill confirmed," he announced, for his own benefit as much as his squadron's.

Silently, Kal thanked the engineer who had made the choice to equip the Supremacy interceptors with shields. He had to admit that were it not for his ship's superior shields and weapons, the Turian pilot might very well have won their dogfight.

 _"Target Four is down. Repeat, Target Four is down,"_ someone from Echo Two reported.

Kal was surprised. He'd been so sucked into the dogfight between himself and the Turian pilot that he'd stopped keeping track of Echo Two's progress. Silently he chided himself for losing focus on the bigger picture. In the grand scheme of a battle, a single fighter could only do so much. He should have focused on his objective.

The pilot shook his head. Now was not the time to get lost in selfdeprecation.

"Confirmed, nice work Echo Two. _Revenge_ , this is Alpha Lead. The path is clear."

* * *

 ** _Kilran's Revenge_** \- **Bridge**

"Fleet Admiral, our target is in range of our ion cannons," the weapons officer announced.

"Command Xander has reported a successful destruction of his objectives," said the communications officer.

"Excellent. Tell the ion cannon crews that they may fire when ready," ordered Ulysses. Mere moments after he'd issued the command, a volley of blue streaks rushed from the ship. They struck the _Steadfast_ , bypassing the dreadnought's kinetic shielding, and splashed along its surface. Even from this distance, Ulysses could see the arcs of ionized energy particles coursing through the _Steadfast's_ systems.

"Still reading energy signatures from the target," his weapons officer announced. The Turian ship was likely hardened against EMP type weapons.

"Fire again," the Fleet Admiral ordered.

Another volley of blue streaks struck the _Steadfast_.

* * *

 _ **Steadfast -**_ **Bridge**

The lights aboard the bridge flickered and then finally went out. Work station screens soon followed.

"Report!" ordered Kivara.

"Weapon systems are down!"

"I've lost reads on our engines!"

"Communications are unresponsive!"

"Spirits! What in the hells did they hit us with?!" demanded Kivara. No one had an answer for her. "Are our kinetic barriers still up at least?"

"Can't tell ma'am, but best guess is no," said the sensors officer.

"Damn it! Switch us to auxiliary power and try to get communications back up." The crew did as she ordered, and meanwhile Kivara busied herself by analyzing the situation. This didn't make sense. Her ships were dying all around her, but not a single shot had been fired at the _Steadfast_. In fact, the enemy so far had done their best to render her ship defenseless without destroying it.

They were after something, something that had to do with the _Steadfast_.

Her maybe? She was the ranking officer of the fleet, perhaps they wanted her as a hostage?

"Ma'am, we've got shipboard comms back online. Spectre Vasir is requesting an update. She sounds pretty pissed ma'am," said the communications officer.

"Spectre Vasir?" With everything going on, Kivara had honestly forgotten all about the Asari.

"Yes ma'am, her and the ambassadors."

"...the ambassadors? The ambassadors!" She'd forgotten about them too.

"Ma'am?"

"How could I have been so blind?! That's the reason those sire fuckers are being so careful to keep us alive. They won't destroy us as long as we have what they want."

* * *

 _ **Kilran's Revenge**_

"Fleet Admiral. Several of the enemy cruisers are moving towards the target."

Ulysses felt a hint of respect grow for the enemy. The damage from the ion particles would have rendered the _Steadfast's_ communications offline, which meant that Regirus would not have been able to order those ships into a protective formation. Thus, the commanders of those ships were placing themselves between their admiral and the Imperials on their own initiative. Ulysses found himself admiring their bravery. But their bravery had placed yet another obstacle between Ulysses and the completion of his mission, and he did not like that at all.

"We don't have time for this," he decided. "Contact the _Eternal Warden_. Inform Captain VanGellis that I am authorizing the use of his Silencer cannon."

"Yes sir."

Mere moments after Ulysses had issued the command, the _Eternal Warden's_ main gun began to glow with life.

 _"Warning: Silencer Cannon use has been authorized. All Imperial units are to evacuate the target zone,"_ a voice announced through a fleet-wide broadcast. To issue such a warning was standard protocol, such was the destructive potential of a Silencer.

Even from far away, Ulysses could see the Imperial fighters scattering away from the center of the enemy fleet.

"I hope VanGellis remembers to use only a single reactor," Ulysses said aloud. To use all of the weapon's reactors would annihilate the entire enemy fleet, and render their mission a failure.

The Fleet Admiral soon found his fears unfounded. A massive beam of red energy lanced out from the _Eternal Warden._ It struck the first of the enemy cruisers moving to the defense of the _Steadfast_ , and immediately the ship simply ceased to exist. Then the blossom effect came, a rippling wave of radiation cascading out from the impact site. It spread further and further, consuming as it went, feeding its growth.

A total of 10 Turian ships were caught by the wave of destructive energy. Their kinetic barriers and armor had been useless against its disintegrating properties.

Once again the Silencer had lived up to its classification as a superweapon.

As a Fleet Admiral, and as a veteran of the Great Galactic War, Ulysses had had the privilege of seeing the Silencer used many times. He had been among those in the Imperial Navy that had supported its inception and creation. He had also been there when the project had been cancelled Darth Thanaton, who had diverted the funds and resources towards his own research into the Force.

It was only thanks to Darth Nox, now a member of the Dark Council, that the Silencer was finally allowed to see the battlefield. Since then it had proven its worth time and time again.

The ten Turian ships, now nothing more than molten space dust, were but the latest of its accomplishments.

In the corner of his vision, Ulysses saw a ship launch from the _Eternal Warden's_ hangar. He recognized it as a Fury-class Imperial Transport, the model of ship was rare enough in the Navy that Ulysses knew it to be The Wrath's personal transport. But for this battle it was being piloted by the Lord Wrath's faithful companion.

Ulysses smiled as he saw the ship head directly for the crippled _Steadfast_.

"Contact The Emperor's Wrath, and inform him that the mission is proceeding as planned."

* * *

 _ **Steadfast -**_ **Bridge**

Gone.

All of them.

Ten ships.

The _Kin'siva._

The _Arced Talon_

The _Lieren_

The _Varia_

The _Memory of T'Phon_

The _Fortress of Avida_

The _Galapa_

The _Dal'krios_

The _Furious Dagger_

Even the _Steadfast's_ sister dreadnought: _Spirit of Edessan_.

All of them, lost with all hands. Turned to dust in the blink of an eye, save for the _Spirit of Edessan_. The dreadnought's armor had managed to resist only marginally better than the other ships. Instead of being rendered into dust, it had become a massive boiling ball of malformed metal and circuitry.

Kivara wanted to order a scan of the _Spirit of Edessan_. To see if there were any survivors, but just looking at the bright orange glow of its wreckage, she knew that it would be a waste of time.

"That's...that's not possible," she heard someone say.

The fleet admiral had absolutely no words for what she had just witnessed. But even as Kivara stayed in stunned horror, part of her realized that her theory had indeed been right. If Kua's objective had been simply to annihilate the 9th fleet, then he would have led with that super weapon of his, and incinerated them all from the beginning of the battle. Instead, he'd held it back, and used it only when he needed to remove some of her ships quickly, while at the same time making sure that the _Steadfast_ would not be hit.

Anger began to bubble inside of her gut.

It was all about the ambassadors. Kivara and her fleet weren't even real targets, they were obstacles, something that was getting in the way of the true goal. The thought of it made her rage, and that in turn snapped her out of her stupor.

Fine, if the ambassadors were so damned important that Kua would risk leaving the _Steadfast_ alive, she would make sure that he would regret it.

"Contact Spectre Vasir. I have a plan," she ordered.

* * *

For what would definitely not be the last time in her life, Vette wondered how she had gotten volunteered into such a crazy situation. Here she was, a young Twi'lek slicer, flying an Imperial war transport through a warzone, in a foreign galaxy, to board an alien dreadnought. Most Twi'leks her age had to worry about finding a good paying job, or graduating from university, _not_ dodging turret fire.

But then again, not everyone was as amazing as she was, Vette thought to herself smugly. A strike on the port side shields quickly knocked the Twi'lek out of her thoughts. It seemed that some of the Turians had shaken off the shock of seeing ten of their ships wiped out in an instant.

Most might have found that respectable. Vette found it annoying, and potentially life threatening.

"Everyone hang on back there!" she yelled.

 _"What's our ETA?"_ asked Pierce over the ship comm-channel.

"Our what?"

 _"Estimated time till we arrive?!"_

"Soon!"

 _"How soon!?"_

"I said soon! Now shut up and let me fly!" Petulantly, Vette switched the comm-line off. "I better get a BIG raise in my allowance for this."

* * *

 **The Shroud**

"We're losing," said Lieutenant Roma.

The words made Castius flinch. His adjutant had whispered it, so that no one but the two of them could have heard it. But for Castius it might as well have been screamed to Spirits of the Sky. He'd seen the signs, but forced himself not to believe it.

"It looks bad," Castius began, "but we're not out of this fight yet."

"We've taken nearly 40% casualties, and haven't made much progress in securing the city," Roma pointed out. His words were a steady and simple statement of fact.

"We still have a chance," assured Castius. "So far their lines have bended but not broken. From what our men on the ground report, their forces are disciplined and professional. Soldiers of that kind only break under extreme pressure, and that's what we have to give them."

"Sir! Taskforce Spear One is in position and awaiting your word," an officer said.

"The word is given."

* * *

"The word is given! All squads move out!" Colonel Raxar's voice thundered out, even without the use of an amplifier. Halin replaced the vial of red sand into a pouch on his belt just as Captain Ruvon found him.

"Halin, hey! Come on! Time to move out soldier," the Captain clapped him on the shoulder.

"Yeah," Halin sniffed and rubbed his nose to remove any residue. "Yeah, I'm coming."

The objective of Taskforce Spear One was simple: break through enemy lines. Once that happened, the taskforce would split up and perform flanking maneuvers to assist the rest of the fronts. The entire plan hitched on whether or not Spear One could actually break through however. To help with that, command had ordered nearly every squad of cabals in the 141st to be attached to the taskforce.

They would be the tip of the spear. The first into battle.

"I think the spirits hate me," muttered Halin. This was undoubtedly some sort of punishment for being a sand user.

"Ah don't be like that Halin. Show some enthusiasm! We're going to be the first into battle!"

"...wonderful."

Ever since they'd saved one another's lives, Captain Ruvon had been acting like Halin was his best friend. It was extremely annoying, and making it harder for Halin to sneak away to take hits.

"Cabal squads! Get up front!" someone yelled.

For Halin, desertion was looking better and better.

"Come on, that's us!"

 _Us._ Halin sneered at that word as he chased after Ruvon. Somehow Captain Ruvon 'Rules' had become even more of a pain in the ass than before. Now he was using words like 'us' and 'we', like he was a Cabal too. He wasn't, and he would never be. Just like how Halin knew he'd never achieve an officer's rank.

"Objective in sight," someone reported.

The objective was a temple. Halin had seen many temples during his time in the Hollows. Usually they were small and fairly modest. One might even call them quaint.

This temple however, was nothing like those that he had seen before. This one was large and ostentatious. Even from far away, Halin could see the intricate carvings and paintings on the outer walls. A circular courtyard had been cut around the building where several statutes of female Krogan had been erected.

Halin knew little of Krogan religion, but he could guessed that this temple was dedicated to one of the more important gods of their pantheon.

The taskforce was charged with taking it.

 _"Cabals! Raise barriers! Protect your squads"_ Colonel Raxar's deep baritone ordered inside Halin's helmet.

Every Cabal in Halin's squad, including himself, reached out with their hands and together they formed a single dome shaped barrier to cover themselves and three other non-Cabal squads. Almost immediately after they did, the enemy began to open fire. Ripples splashed across its surface, not just accelerator rounds either, but also bright red energy bolts.

Halin had somehow found himself at the very front of the group. As a result was forced to deal with full exposure to the red flashing light that accompanied each energy bolt. He wasn't very religious, but at the moment Halin thanked the Spirits that Biotic Barriers could provide better protection against the enemy's weapons than kinetic barriers.

The phenomenon had bugged Halin at first. But then he'd put his university education to use and remembered the differences between an kinetic barrier and a personal biotic barrier. While a kinetic barrier detected and deflected small objects traveling at high velocities, a personal biotic barrier was constantly on and only disappeared when shattered or at the discretion of its creator.

In other words, shields were a net and biotic barriers were a wall.

It made sense when he thought about it. Halin remembered back in boot camp he'd seen his drill sergeant protect a squad of trainees from a lightning strike by conjuring a dome barrier.

"Prepare to break on my mark!" ordered Ruvon, pulling Halin back to the present. The temple was much closer now and the enemy was starting to try new tactics.

"Hold!" ordered Ruvon.

Someone from inside the temple tossed a grenade, one of those metallic spherical ones. It landed and rolled up next to their barrier. When it detonated, the fire and shockwave washed over their dome. The barrier held, but the Cabal holding up that section of it buckled under the stress.

"Hold!"

Halin saw a missile launched by the enemy streak toward a nearby group. It destroyed their barrier, and the enemy mercilessly gunned down all the squads that had been under it.

"Hold!"

Another grenade detonated against their barrier and Halin felt his insides strain.

"Hold!" Ruvon's yelling was not helping.

Finally, they crossed into the temple's courtyard.

"NOW! Break!"

The dome lowered.

"Pop smoke!" a female lieutenant ordered. Several members of her squad threw smoke grenades. Soon the courtyard was filled with a heavy grey fog.

"Go! Go! Go! We've got to get into the temple!" Halin heard Ruvon order.

 _I could just run while no one can see,_ Halin thought to himself. The smoke would serve as a perfect cover. But then a hand grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Come on Halin! You're going to miss all the fun!" said Ruvon.

"...yeah, fun."

The temple was just as impressive inside as it had been from the outside. There were a great number of well carved statutes, all depicting what Halin believed were Krogan women. Some had them in priestly fabrics, others had them armed and armored. There were murals on the wall, which was the most surprising aspect to Halin. He'd never thought any Krogan could ever be patient or dexterous enough to wield a paint brush.

There was also a great deal of Krogan and their allies. But the Turians were in now, and they did not back down.

What followed was an hour of brutal indoor combat. Casualties were had on both sides thanks to the close quarters of the temple. The Krogan as always, excelled in using their incredible strength and endurance to great effect in the hallways where there was no need to aim. Their allies, the aliens and Humans in black armor, proved just as tough as their Krogan allies. They performed with military efficiency and precision that would have made Halin's old drill sergeant shed tears of joy.

But the Turian forces were equally disciplined and efficient, and the advantage provided by the Cabals could not be understated. For some reason the enemy had no biotics among their numbers. Halin wasn't complaining though. Biotic on Biotic combat was the worst, way too intense for his liking.

He was very content having an unfair advantage over his enemies.

A Krogan charging at him was hit by a Lift and floated helplessly off the ground. Halin immediately followed up with a Warp, detonating the field, and tearing the last enemy in the room apart.

"Clear!" Halin announced.

"Good work Halin," Ruvon clapped him on the back, much to the cabal's annoyance. "Let's link back up with the rest of the task force."

Halin groaned and began to follow when suddenly his skull was wracked with a pounding headache. He stumbled his steps and Ruvon took notice.

"Hey! You okay?" asked the Captain as he steadied Halin with a hand.

 _No, I'm not_. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a bit tired from overusing my Biotics. You go on ahead sir, I'll catch up in a little bit."

Ruvon seemed to accept the explanation and nodded. Halin moved off towards the corner of the room, where there was no one else save for the corpses of two Krogan and some blue alien with weird head tails. His last hit of Red Sand hadn't lasted as long as he thought it would. Quickly he pulled out a small silver tube from his belt, popped its lid open, and held it to his nostril.

Halin inhaled deeply. Almost immediately he felt reinvigorated and his headache disappeared.

 _I could just run away now. No one would notice...except Ruvon. Damn it_.

With a sigh, and a curse, Halin dragged himself out of his corner.

* * *

Most of Spear One's command staff had gathered in the temple's main hall. It was a massive chamber whose main attraction was the massive statue of a female Krogan atop an altar. The she-Krogan's statue was the most impressive one Halin had seen so far. In one hand she held an ancient but brutal looking axe, but in the other she held what appeared to be a rock? No, not a rock. Upon closer inspection Halin realized that the rock was in fact a baby Krogan. He hadn't realized it at first, because he'd never seen a baby Krogan before. Had anyone?

"Good work people!" Colonel Raxar's already thundering voice was enhanced by the acoustics of the hall. "We've got our beachhead into the enemy's lines. But that was the easy part! I doubt that they'll let us keep it, and I doubt they'll let us go very much further without a serious fight! Lieutenant Naevra! I want you and your platoon to establish a defensive perimeter in the southern courtyard!"

"Yes sir!" said a female Turian. Halin assumed her to be Naevra. She was a pretty thing, Halin thought.

"Hey! Halin!" Ruvon suddenly stepped into Halin's vision, blocking his view of the female lieutenant. Typical. "You feeling better?"

"You know Captain...I was starting to. Now I'm not quite sure," he replied.

"Ruvon!" Boomed Raxar. "You will lead the attack to drive deeper into the enemy's territory! Gather your Cabals and choose three more squads as back up."

"Yes sir!" Ruvon saluted, then turned to Halin. "Come on, let's go do our job."

Halin's shoulder slumped. He should have stayed in his corner.

But before he could drag his feet after the Captain. A shout came from outside.

"Enemy reinforcements!" someone yelled.

Halin ran to a window and saw that two armored transports had pulled up into the northern courtyard. The boxy looking vehicles lowered their rear ramps. But Krogan didn't come storming out as Halin had expected. Instead, a horde of frothing, screaming, skinny aliens scrambled toward the temple, screeching as they came.

"Vorcha!" he yelled.

"HOLD THE LINE!" Raxar thundered. The Colonel took up a position at the temple's northern entrance, leveled his massive LMG at the oncoming horde, and scythed them down like wheat in a field.

But even as dozens died, more lived on to swarm into the temple.

"MEAT!" hissed a Vorcha before Halin blew its head off. Three more immediately took its place. Reflexively he scattered them and a six more behind them with a single Biotic Push.

To his left, Halin witnessed one of his fellow Cabals get dragged onto the ground. The Vorcha were immediately on him like maggots on a carcass. Halin didn't see what happened exactly, but he saw a spray of blue Turian blood, and one of the Vorcha running off with what appeared to be a leg.

To his right, Halin saw Colonel Raxar standing in the middle of the carnage. The colonel was a massive specimen and an awe inspiring battlefield commander. He fired his Revenant LMG one handed, while in the other hand he held a Vorcha up by its neck.

"Hold the line!" his voice boomed, then he slammed the Vorcha down on the ground and crushed its head with a stomp.

"On your six!" He heard Ruvon yell, then felt the Captain at his back. "Stick together! Don't let them separate you!"

"Easier said that done!" Halin shot back. His momentary distraction nearly cost him his life. A Vorcha leaped at him, all slobbering teeth, and Halin just barely managed to hold the alien back with his rifle.

"MUST KILL! MUST EAT! FRESH FRESH MEAT!" The alien screamed. Halin screamed back in terror.

Suddenly the Vorcha was ripped off of him. Tiberius tossed the alien onto the floor and pumped a shotgun round into its belly. When the thing kept squirming he blew its head off.

"Thanks," nodded Halin.

"Don't thank me, watch my back," Tiberius shot back. The elderly sergeant activated his Omni-tool's _Incineration_ app, and a crowd of Vorcha went up in flames.

"Grenade out!" Lieutenant Naevra yelled, and an explosion took out another group of the alien freaks, as well as one of the smaller Krogan statues.

"Thanks for the assist," Ruvon gave the Lieutenant a nod, and she returned it.

"Less talk!" Tiberius chided. "More shoot-"

"HE'S GOT A THUNDER HAMMER!"

Somewhere a Krogan let out a bloodcurdling bellow. Then Halin saw three Turians go flying, their bodies boneless and broken.

"What is this sacrilege?!" The biggest Krogan that Halin had ever seen swaggered into the temple. Clutched in one hand was a Stryker grenade launcher, in the other was a Thunder Hammer. The head of the weapon cracked with the power of its kinetic generators. "You filthy Turians defile this sacred temple with your presence! I, Weryloc Hok, will cleanse this temple, and send you as sacrifices to Vaul!"

"Focus fire!" Naevra ordered. But too many of her soldiers were still preoccupied dealing with the Vorcha.

"Come here you big bastard!" Ruvon fired his weapon into the Krogan's back, only to be absorbed by a shield. With speed that should not have belonged to something so big, the Krogan whipped around and charged.

Several Vorcha and Turians in the Krogan's path were smashed aside by its hammer or torn apart by its grenade launcher. The whole time, Ruvon, Tiberius, Naevra, and even Halin peppered Hok with gunfire. But when he reached Ruvon, the Krogan's shields were still holding. The hammer descended and for a moment Halin thought this was going to be the best day of his life.

But then Ruvon managed to roll away at the last second, and the hammer missed.

"Damn it," Halin muttered.

"Flee puny Turians! Nothing shall save you from me!" Hok bellowed.

"Who are you calling puny?!" Colonel Raxar's LMG boomed as it fired into the Krogan's backside. Bellowing a challenging roar, Hok charged Raxar while wildly firing his Stryker.

In response, Raxar deployed an Omni-shield just in time to block several incoming grenades. But then Hok shattered it with a single strike of his hammer, knocking the colonel back into one of the massive pillars that held up the temple's foundation.

"Like the rest of your kind! Weak and pitiful!" the Krogan boasted.

"You talk too much!" Raxar fired his LMG into Hok's knee at point blank. The Krogan's shields finally shattered, and his leg was sawn in half. Hok howled in pain, then Raxar stuck his LMG into the Krogan's mouth and pulled the trigger, silencing the Weryloc warrior forever.

All around the temple, Turian soldiers were finishing off the last of the Vorcha and Krogan in the temple. Raxar casually brushed the bits of crest that had splattered onto his armor.

"Everyone! Regroup with your squads!" he ordered.

"Does he always have to yell?" Halin muttered on the other side of the chamber.

The sound of a tank firing its main gun cut off any answer Halin might have received. Many of the Hierarchy's soldiers dropped down to their bellies.

"Whose guns were those? Ours or theirs?" Tiberius asked aloud.

A Turian by one of the windows chanced a peek outside, and smiled. "Holy hells! The Spirits of War are kind today!"

* * *

 _"THAT'S RIGHT! RUN YOU OVERGROWN LIZARDS!"_ howled Major Brucion from inside his personal V2-Xantros heavy tank, heavily modified with additional armor and weapons, named: _Unbreakable Stronghold_. It's turret belched out a heavy storm of accelerator rounds, mowing down Krogan and Vorcha alike. It's main gun fired, putting an explosive round into one of the Krogan armored transports. When the round exploded, the vehicle was torn in half.

 _"AGAIN!"_ Brucion ordered.

 _Unbreakable Stronghold's_ cannon fired, and the second Krogan Tomkah reared onto its back wheels, in flames, before falling onto its back.

" _HAHAHA! THAT'S FOR THE HIERARCHY YOU MISERABLE TOADS!"_ A squad of Krogan, armed with blaster rifles gifted to them by their Imperial allies, fired on the heavy tank. The energy weapons did little more than scorch the _Unbreakable Stronghold's_ paint job.

 _"OOOOH! FANCY WEAPON'S YOU'VE GOT THERE! HAVE AN HE ROUND! FIRE!"_ The _Unbreakable Stronghold_ fired its main gun again, and the whole squad was torn into small meaty ribbons.

A loud war cry caught Brucion's attention next. A Krogan wielding a hammer had given into the Blood Rage and charged the 90 ton war machine.

 _"TYPICAL STUPID KROGAN,"_ Brucion sneered mockingly. On his order, the _Unbreakable Stronghold's_ turret chewed the Krogan into mincemeat.

"Major!" Colonel Raxar called out from a temple window.

 _"COLONEL!"_ Brucion replied through his tank's speakers.

"Good of you to join the party. But I was under the impression that you were leading our armor's efforts elsewhere," said Raxar.

 _"PLANS HAVE CHANGE COLONEL. GENERAL VAKARIAN WANTS EVERYTHING AVAILABLE FOR THIS PUSH. WE'RE LOSING GROUND ALL OVER THE CITY, THIS TASK FORCE IS OUR BEST CHANCE TO FINALLY SHOW THOSE SPIRITS-DAMNED SAVAGE WHAT FOLLY IT WAS TO CHALLENGE THE HIERARCHY."_

As if on cue, six more tanks pulled into the temple's courtyard behind the _Unbreakable Stronghold_.

"I see. Very well," nodded Raxar with approval. "You're assistance is greatly appreciated. Now lets show these Krogan what it means to fight a war."

 _"FOR THE HIERARCHY!"_ Brucion cheered through his speakers.

* * *

 **Atop Vaul's Eye...**

 _"You're warriors have failed to retake sector 23."_

Even through holo-communication, The Wrath could tell that Quinn's words were not meant to be malicious or hurtful in anyway. They were simply a truthful statement of the situation. Unfortunately, Wreav clearly lacked the perception to understand that. The small squint in his eye was all The Wrath needed to know that a nerve had been touched.

"This is but a minor set back," assured Wreav. "My warriors will take back the Temple of Kaliga soon."

 _"If that sector had been staffed with more of my men. We would not find ourselves needing to take it back at all."_

Wreav snarled, and glared daggers at the miniature hologram of Quinn resting in The Wrath's palm.

"Choose your words carefully Imperial. A Krogan's memory is long."

 _"If you are attempting intimidate me, then I suggest that you save your breath. I have been threatened by beings far more powerful than you."_ Quinn then turned to The Wrath, who had kept silent so far. _"My lord, with your permission, I shall order our artillery to begin a bombardment of that sector. Once the entrenched Turians have been softened, I shall send in walkers and shock troops to push them back."_

"You can't!" Wreav said immediately. "The Temple of Kaliga is sacred to the Krogan people! She is the mate of Vaul himself! Our goddess of life and fertility!"

 _"Temples can be rebuilt,"_ Quinn pointed out.

"Not this temple! I will not allow it to be destroyed! My warriors would rather throw themselves into the enemy's bullets then allow it to be destroyed!"

 _"If we use the artillery, we can minimize our own casualties and simultaneously drive the Turian forces back. It is the most efficient way to proceed."_

"I will not let this happen!" Wreav jabbed a meaty finger at Quinn's hologram.

 _"Taking it back with infantry will result in damage to the building anyway."_

"It's one thing to damage it. It's another thing entirely to sacrifice it!"

 **"Enough."** Silence quickly settled without The Wrath even having to raise his voice. **"The artillery will not bombard the temple."**

 _"As...as you say my lord,"_ said Quinn, though he was clearly disappointed. Wreav smiled and nodded in thanks.

 **"We are winning. But this battle has dragged on too long. I grow tired of it."** The Wrath turned his gaze upon Wreav, and the Krogan stopped smiling. **"Quinn is right. Your warriors failed, even when they were fighting for something truly important to them. I have been told stories of Krogan tenacity in battle. It appears I have been lied to."**

Wreav clenched his fists and ground his teeth, but ultimately said nothing.

 **"Quinn."**

 _"My lord?"_

 **"Contact Lord Medechas and Lord Vyzaan, tell them to gather their forces. I will deal with this nuisance myself."**

 _"Yes my lord."_

* * *

 **Aboard The Wrath's Fury transport...**

The _Steadfast's_ hangar was directly ahead. Vette didn't want to jinx anything, but she was pretty sure that there was no stopping them now.

"What's the status?!" demanded Pierce as he entered the cockpit. Apparently he'd finally figured out that Vette had turned off her communicator.

"We're almost there," she replied, still half ignoring him as she prepped the ship's landing gear.

"Well have you noticed the shields are still up?!" Pierce pointed.

"Of course I have!" Vette replied. She had not, but he didn't need to know that.

Vette fired two proton torpedoes. Twin balls of pink fire flew out from the ship and struck the left barrier generator, on the edge of the hangar entrance. The blue thin sheet of energy blocking their access flickered and died. Vette threw the ship's accelerator up to maximum and the Fury shot through the open entrance, just as the hangar's safety doors began to close.

"We're in!" she cheered.

Working with lightning quick familiarity, Vette activated the fury's landing gear and lowered the engine output at the same time. The fury skidded across the _Steadfast's_ hangar deck, creating an ear splitting screech, before finally coming to a stop.

"Hm, not bad," said Pierce, as he put on his helmet. "Lower the ramp! You've done your job. Now it's time for the rest of us to do ours."

Vette wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her hand, then took a look out through the cockpit window. Already she could see Turian soldiers moving towards their landing site.

"Have fun storming a giant warship full of heavily armed alien soldiers," she called after him, and pressed the button to lower the ramp.

* * *

Though none of them were soldiers, the hangar crew of the _Steadfast_ were all part of the Hierarchy military. Thus they had been instilled with a deep need to stand their ground, regardless of the fact that none of them wore combat armor or shields, and were armed only with pistols. So when the enemy ship began to lower its boarding ramp, a dozen Turians armed with pistols stood ready to take on whatever stepped out.

Pierce's Team of 12 stormed down the ship's ramp with unerring precision and efficiency born from years of experience and repetition. But upon stepping out onto the alien ship, the Black Ops troopers found that they were not the first to do so.

Zhaff and Marshalla, having built up their rage during the long wait, were eager to unleash their pent up fury. Over a dozen Turians, all dressed in the uniform of hangar crew, lay strewn about across the deck in various states of dismemberment. The Sith apprentices weren't done yet though. There were still plenty more hangar crew attempting to fight back. But the apprentices easily carved their way through them with graceful ease.

Pierce watched, barely able to keep track, as Marshalla swiftly zipped between three Turians, leaving all of them with burning cuts along their throats. At the same time, Zhaff scythed through another group with a single toss of his saberstaff, while at the same time brutally snapping the neck of another Turian, finishing just in time to catch his weapon on its return trip.

"Come on! Let's not let them have all the fun!" Pierce and his team advanced forward in perfect formation. Their blaster rifles blazed with accurate burst shots, cutting down any Turian unfortunate enough to come within their fields of fire.

Soon, Turian marine squads started to reinforce the outmatched hangar crew. Unlike their fellows, these aliens came armed with automatic weapons and wore military grade armor.

"They are mine!" Zhaff pointed at the nearest squad of marines. But before the Sith apprentice could make good on his word, Pierce cut down the whole squad with a stream of blaster bolts. The Sith apprentice shot Pierce a reproachful glare. Pierce merely snorted.

"Less talking, more fighting!" More marines stormed into the hangar, cutting off any response Zhaff might have had.

Taking cover behind a stack of sturdy looking crates, Pierce pulled out a datapad. A small arrow appeared on its screen, pointing Pierce in the direction of the nearest hangar exit. That was the way they needed to go.

"Shadow Three, Six, Nine, and Twelve! You've got rear guard duty! Stay with the ship and make sure we've got a ride home! The rest of you, with me. Zhaff, Marshalla, that means you as well."

Zhaff prepared to protest, but Marshalla cut him off.

"Acknowledged, we shall follow your lead, as The Wrath instructed," she said.

"Smart girl."

* * *

 ** _Steadfast -_** **Bridge**

"Admiral! Marines report that the majority of the intruders are exiting the hangar and are headed further into the ship. But the vessel that they used to enter the hangar is still there, along with four intruders guarding it."

"Is the reboot for internal systems done?" asked Kivara.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good, lock down the next hallway they enter. Once they're trapped, send squads of marines to take them down. Send more squads into the hangar as well, I want that ship secured!"

* * *

Pierce cursed himself for not noticing the ship still had power. The lights were dim, but not completely out. Likewise, the holographic glyphs on the doors were still active and useable. Ion cannons must have knocked out the main generators, but the ship must have had a weaker backup.

The door at the end of the hall suddenly slammed shut and its glyph switched from green to red. A moment later, the door that they had just entered through did the same.

They were boxed in, but not trapped. Already Pierce had thought of half a dozen ways to escape. In the end, he shouldn't have even bothered. The Wrath's apprentices took it upon themselves to start cutting through the door with their lightsabers.

Their red blades sliced through the metal with incredible ease. By the time Pierce and the rest of the team were at the door, the two apprentices had finished cutting a large circle. Zhaff finished the job by pushing the piece out with the Force.

The Imperial team continued on, unimpeded.

Pierce took a look at his mission timer, and noted the extra 2 seconds his mistake had cost them. They'd have to pick up their pace to make up for it.

"Double time it!" he ordered.

* * *

 ** _Steadfast -_** **Bridge**

"What do you mean, how could they cut through so quickly? Those doors are 4 inches thick and made of ship-grade material!"

 _"I'm sorry ma'am, I can't quite believe it myself,"_ replied the sergeant of the marine squad that had reached the hall first. The hall where the intruders were supposed to have stay trapped inside, but had somehow gotten out of in mere moments.

"Damn it, find them! I don't care what it takes!" she ordered.

 _"Yes ma'am!"_ The call ended.

"Any progress on getting security cameras back online?"

"Maintenance is saying they're working on it," responded the communications officer.

"Tell them to work faster! Until we find and eliminate the intruders, I want ten extra squads on the ambassador's security detail!"

"Ma'am, the ship if fairly large and I doubt the intruders have a map. Do you really think they can even find the ambassadors?" another officer asked.

"They wouldn't be here if they couldn't. Get that security detail to the ambassadors now!"

"Yes ma'am!"

* * *

 **Back On Tuchanka...**

Tiberius eased himself to sit on the ground with his back resting against the temple of Kaliga. When he was finally able to get in a comfortable position, he let out a pent up sigh of relief. He was starting to feel his age. Every muscle and bone in his body ached.

"You look tired," said Naevra as she took a seat next to him.

"I'm fine ma'am," he assured her, "just have to catch my second wind."

Naevra chuckled. "It's alright sergeant. I'm tired too, everyone is. This has been one crazy day."

Tiberius grunted in agreement. "Definitely not what I was expecting when I got up this morning ma'am."

"Hey, check out what I managed to find on the bodies," Naevra pulled something from her belt and held it out to Tiberius. His eyes widened when he saw what it was. It was a pistol, but definitely not one manufactured by Turians, or any species as far as he knew.

"Is that what I think it is?" he asked.

"Yup," Neavra gestured for him to take it. Tiberius was hesitant at first, but finally relented. The Hierarchy had a firm protocol against looting. But once it was discovered that the enemy possessed handheld energy weapons, a legion wide order had been given to secure any and all enemy technology.

"It's...light," Tiberius noted as he tested the weapon's weight. It wasn't much smaller than his own pistol, he guessed that maybe it had something to do with the material the weapon was made of.

"You wanna shoot something with it?" asked Naevra, her tone slightly teasing.

"Better not," replied Tiberius as he handed it back to her. "Real handheld laser weaponry. I never thought I'd live long enough to see the day. This is...this is big."

"I know what you mean. We're looking at a complete revolution of warfare. Kinetic shielding, both personal and ship-based, will become totally obsolete. Ammo type is going to become redundant. Armor is going to have to be upgraded. Shit...they're going to have to rewrite the whole playbook."

Tiberius nodded. "Like I said, this is big."

For a moment the two soliders sat in silence. But as usual, Naevra was unable to keep quiet for long.

"So did you do it?"

"Do what?" asked Tiberius.

"You know, what we talked about before deployment."

"Oh..."

Naevra fixed him with a look. "Tiberius, please tell me you called your daughter before all of this."

"I-" A nearby explosion cut him off. Both Turians jumped to their feet.

"What the hells was that?"

* * *

By the time The Wrath arrived, the Turian taskforce had already launched an offensive to dig deeper into the Krogan-Imperial lines. He decided to start there. Once the tip of the spear was blunted, the rest of the weapon would become much easier to deal with.

Accompanying him in the transport gunship were Lord Medechas and Lord Vyzaan. The Wrath had met Medechas and worked alongside him for the campaign to conquer the prison world of Belsavis. The man was starting to show his age, his long black hair and beard now contained wisps of white. Vyzaan was a newly appointed lord. She was a Togruta with red skin and white markings, and unlike Medechas she still had yet to prove that her appointment to The Wrath's army was justified.

This would be an excellent opportunity to put her skills of command to the test.

 **"Pilot! Open the door!"** The Wrath ordered.

"Yes my lord."

The door on the side of the gunship slid open, revealing the Imperial counter attack to already be underway. Imperial troops advanced in regimented formation. Accompanying them was a column of walkers and a group of nearly three dozen Sith. The Wrath saw blaster bolts crossing the battlefield. He saw Sith leaping into enemy ranks to cut down Turians with their lightsabers.

The enemy retaliated with streams of accelerator fire and waves of Biotic attacks. The Wrath had read the reports, he knew that this offensive contained an unusually large number of Turian Cabals. He wasn't surprised. Despite the Hierarchy Military's prejudice against Biotics, Cabals were often used in areas of heavier fighting as special weapons.

Fools. The inability of the Turians to acknowledge the advantage of Biotics and move passed their history would hamper them, and hold their military back from achieving its true potential. The Wrath was sure that the Emperor would fix that problem once this galaxy was brought to heel.

 **"I will cut through the Turian lines,"** The Wrath began. **"You two shall lead our forces in behind me."**

"Show them the true power of the Empire my lord," said Medechas.

"Understood," Vyzaan said.

Confident the army would be in good hands, The Wrath stepped out of the still hovering shuttle, and dropped 30 meters to the ground below. He landed at the front of the Imperial line in a crouch and immediately ignited his lightsabers. Imperials who saw his arrival cheered loudly. Nearby Krogan roared their greetings, they were eager to see such a powerful warrior in action.

"The Emperor's Wrath is with us!" someone shouted.

"Wrath! Wrath! Wrath! Wrath!" Others chanted.

The Wrath ignored it all. If he were a lesser man, then perhaps he would have taken pleasure in the adulation of his men. He might have even strived for more of it. But he was The Wrath. The admiration of others meant little to him. He didn't care if they loved him or hated him. The only thing he would ever care about was the enemy in front of him, and he cared only that they weren't dead yet.

No bellowing battle cry or roar of anger came from The Wrath as he exploded toward the Turian lines. His steps were completely silent. Like a mute phantom he glided across the battlefield, dodging gunfire, avoiding explosions, and slicing through clouds of dust with his sheer speed.

But when The Wrath made his first kill of the day, everyone heard his presence.

The Turian Cabal had stretched out a hand to cast his Biotics, then screamed horribly when The Wrath cut the arm off at the elbow. The Cabal was soon silenced, as The Wrath lopped off his head with a single strike. Before the body even touched the ground, The Wrath was already moving on the rest of the squad.

"HOLY-!" The Turian finished half his sentence, before he himself was cut in half.

The Wrath's blades moved in blazing red arcs. Already he'd shredded apart a dozen Turians and by his HUD's counter it had been less than 4minutes since he'd been unleashed. Too slow. The Wrath poured more of the Force into his legs. A small snarl escaped his lips as he dashed towards his next targets.

Five dozen more Turians died to his blades in half the time. Their cohesion was excellent, their focus was well directed. None of them wavered or took a single step back. They had all been good soldiers. But they could not comprehend that their bullets were easily blocked by his lightsabers. They did not realize that their aim was simply too slow to keep up. And they were not ready for his power.

The Wrath's lightsaber hummed hungrily as it impaled itself through another Turian's chest. He quickly yanked the weapon free and hurled it at another squad. Guided by the Force and The Wrath's will, it spun and sliced apart the squad. At the same time, The Wrath wielded his second lightsaber leaped straight at a Xantros tank.

With his weapon he sliced off its main cannon and landed on top of its roof. The top entry hatch popped open just as the lightsaber he'd thrown returned to The Wrath's outstretched hand. He buried both red blades into chest of the Turian who'd come out. As the alien slid off of his weapons, The Wrath made a quick motion with his finger, triggering the grenades on the Turian's belt with the Force. He jumped off just as the explosives went off, killing the crew inside and rendering the tank unusable.

Imperials, Sith, and Krogan, rushed through the aftermath of his slaughter. He'd left very few survivors in his wake, and those that could put up a fight were quickly overwhelmed. They were eager to catch up with him, to fight by his side. Some continued to chant his name.

"Wrath! Wrath! Wrath! Wrath!"

He didn't care. He had more enemies to kill.

The Wrath became a blur, he transformed into a wave of pure carnage that swept over the Turian army like a plauge. The soldiers of the Hierarchy often died seeing only a blur, or even nothing at all. But they knew he was out there. They heard the Krogan and Imperials chanting his name.

"WRATH! WRATH! WRATH!"

And they knew, that The Wrath was coming for them all.

* * *

 _"We're falling back!"_

"What?! NO! Stand your ground you useless cowards!" Colonel Raxar smashed his fist into a nearby wall of the temple, damaging it.

 _"We can't stop him! We can't stop him!"_

 _"Spirits! Did you see what he did?!"_ another voice screamed.

 _"They're all gone! They're all dead!"_ shouted another.

 _"HE'S HEADED RIGHT FOR US!"_

"WHO!? WHO IS IT?!" Raxar demanded.

 _"They keep saying his name: Wrath! Oh no...no...please! Please have mer-AAAHHH!"_ The transmission died. Colonel Raxar turned to his men.

"Prepare for incoming!"

* * *

Deciding that he needn't waste his time with the last dozen Turians standing between him and the Temple of Kaliga, The Wrath used the Force to simply hurl them all high into the air. Gravity would take care of the rest.

The Wrath had to give credit where it was due. Despite their technological deficiencies and their bias against Biotics, the Turians were an effective military force. It hadn't been very long since they'd taken the temple, and already they'd set themselves up well to defend it. The barrels of turret emplacements stuck out from the building's windows, IFF Sensory Mines had been set up around the perimeter, mobile cover had been placed strategically, manned by no less than a hundred well armed soldiers inside, and a powerful Xantros tank patrolled the courtyard.

But it wouldn't be enough to stop him. Not even close.

Reaching out with the Force, The Wrath located the majority of the mines and triggered their detonators. Fifty mines exploded all at once, and threw up a thick wall of flying dirt, smoke, and dust around the temple. The Wrath emerged from the black clouds like a demon escaping from hell.

The Xantros tank spotted him and fired its main cannon. The Wrath dodged and reached out his hands, he grasped it in a firm telekinetic hold. Wanting the Turians to see what happened next, he lifted the 80 ton war machine up 15 meters into the air. Then crushed it into a ball of metal a fourth of its original size. The Turians who witnessed the death of one of their greatest war machines were shocked, their resolve weakened. As another nail in the coffin, The Wrath hurled the ball of metal into their ranks, bowling through several platoons.

"Spirits of Palaven! What the hells was that?!" a Turian soldier screamed.

 **"That, was me,"** said The Wrath, suddenly in front of the soldier. He held back for a moment to let shock settle in, before cutting the soldier in half at the waste.

"Shoot him!" a female soldier ordered.

The Wrath dodged and blocked the incoming fire with one lightsaber, while channeling lightning down the other. He swung his lightning-infused lightsaber out in a wide arc at the firing Turians, spreading the crackling energy across their ranks. The Turians had no defense against the power of the force, all who came in contact with his lightning died in smoking heaps, their scales burned to charcoal black.

"NO!" The scream originated from a female Turian, an officer. By her side was a male, somewhat older, Turian. The female seethed with rage and glared right at The Wrath with ever ounce of hatred she could posses. Without warning she leveled a blaster pistol and fired a volley of shots.

The Wrath was surprised, but not caught off guard. He easily _deflected_ each blaster bolt sent his way, until he finally reflected a shot back at the female Turian. But his aim was a bit off, and instead of hitting the female, the bolt took the older Turian in the dropped instantly.

"Tiberius!" The female dropped her stolen weapon and ran to her comrade's side.

At that moment Lord Medechas and Lord Vyzaan came rushing through the smoke into the temple courtyard. Imperial soldiers, Sith, and Krogan stormed in after them.

"RUN!" He heard someone scream.

"They're gonna kill us all!" screamed someone else.

"Retreat! Retreat!"

The sound of fear brought a smile to The Wrath's lips, and he spotted several Turians retreating with all haste.

The Wrath stretched out a hand to reel them back. But suddenly they were all gunned down by accelerator rounds, shot in the back.

"Stand and fight cowards!" Boomed a deep growling voice. Colonel Raxar _-The Wrath recognized him from the briefing photos-_ stood resolutely, surrounded by his command squad. "Deserters will be shot! In the name of the Primarch, you will not retreat! You will not fail the Hierarchy today! You will not shame Palavan! Fight! Fight to the last! To the last breath! To the last drop of blood! FIGHT!"

Turians who had looked ready to run began to stand their ground. The Wrath felt a small amount of respect for the Turian Colonel. It took real courage to stand in the face of overwhelming odds. But he didn't have time for courage today.

As if sensing that The Wrath's eyes had become fixed upon him, Colonel Raxar pointed a talon at the Sith and snarled. "SHOOT THAT SIRE FUCKER!"

The Wrath gave a wave of his left blade, swatting away a platoon of Turians brave enough to follow the colonel's orders. Before the Raxar's own command squad could fire a shot, The Wrath hurled his right lightsaber at them. The weapon seemed to gain a mind of its own, as it boomeranged its way through several members of the command squad.

Suddenly, The Wrath was in front of the Colonel. To the Turian officer's credit, his reaction was not to jump back in surprise, but to lash out with his talons. But The Wrath was much, much faster. He casually delivered a kick to Raxar's chest, denting the heavy armor and sending the Turian flying up the stairs of the temple.

By then The Wrath's lightsaber finally returned to his waiting hand, and he decapitated the last two members of the command squad with quick strokes.

Amazingly Raxar managed to stand back up, and The Wrath felt his respect for the Turian increase.

"For Palavan!" Raxar fired an extended burst from his LMG. The Wrath easily stepped out of its way, then used the Force to crush the Colonel's weapon.

Not missing a beat, the Colonel discarded the useless gun and drew his sidearm. But by the time he had it aimed, The Wrath had already crossed the distance between them. 10 meters in the blink of an eye. The Wrath made a casual swipe, and Raxar's hand fell from his wrist, along with the pistol.

"Sire fucker!" Still not willing to give up, Raxar took a swipe at The Wrath with his remaining hand. He lost that one too.

Then The Wrath finally plunged both of his blades through colonel's stomach. Even as his flesh sizzled, and his vision darkened, Raxar bared his sharp teeth, and shot a seething glare into The Wrath's cold black eyes.

"F-for...for the Hierarchy," he wheezed. To his last breath, the colonel had continued to fight.

But with his death, the last drops of the Turian's resolve went with him.

The Wrath yanked his blades out, then hefted the colonel's body up into the air for all his soldiers to see. He activated the speakers inside of his helm, and spoke.

 **"Soldiers of the Hierarchy! Look upon your commander and know you will soon share his fate!"**

"Colonel Raxar is dead!" someone screamed.

The Hierarchy soldiers finally fully gave into fear and panic. The Sith-Imperial and Krogan forces surged forward. They ran into the Temple of Kaliga and cleared it room by room. They chased after the retreating Turian forces, mercilessly gunning them down as they ran back towards their lines.

But The Wrath was not willing to simply let them run away. A message had to be sent back to the Citadel Council, and it would be written using the bodies of every Turian who had dared to come to Tuchanka.

To his left and right, Medechas and Vyzaan stepped forward.

"The enemy is in retreat my lord," said Lord Medechas.

What are you orders?" Asked the female Togruta.

 **"Hunt them down. All of them. I don't want a single Turian to escape."**

A picture of Quinn's face appeared in the corner of The Wrath's HUD. _"My Lord, are you receiving me?"_

 **"I can hear you Quinn,"** The Wrath replied. **"Go ahead."**

 _"I have reports of Turian armor 6.83 kilometers east of your position. They are flanking our forces and causing quite a few casualties, rather efficiently as well if I might add."_

 **"I'll take care of it."**

 _"Very good my lord. Good hunting."_ Quinn's picture disappeared.

The Wrath turned back to Lord Medechas and Vyzaan _._ **"I am required elsewhere. You two will continue this offensive."**

Both Sith bowed.

"Yes my lord," said Medechas.

"By your command," said Vyzaan.

* * *

Enhanced by the power of the Force and through the strength of his own conditioning, The Wrath's top running speed could rival a speeder. As a blur he navigated the streets of The Hollows, rushing past his own troops and occasionally slowing only to make a few sharp turns. Smoke, fire, the wreckage of vehicles, and the bodies of soldiers were everywhere.

It had been pure torture holding himself back atop of Vaul's Eye, knowing that his soldiers had been fighting without him. In all campaigns, across all battlefields, The Wrath had always fought alongside his troops. He lead from the front, as all good leaders should be able to.

But his Emperor had ordered him to stay back for this particular battle, and to intervene only when necessary. This battle was meant to be a blood tasting for the Krogan.

 _"Feeding the Reek's meat,"_ was what the Emperor had said.

Reeks were a species of herbivores. But when starved enough and then fed meat, they would be given a taste for blood, and the animal inevitably became ravenous for more. So too would the Krogan. Once they'd drawn the blood of one of their most hated enemy, they would want more. So The Wrath had held himself through sheer will and iron hard discipline.

Now he was finally being allowed to let loose. The Krogan had tasted their blood, now it was his turn. Fighting was the only time he ever knew peace, and so The Wrath allowed himself to gorge like a man starving man who'd just discovered a feast.

Up ahead he could hear the sounds of blaster and gunfire, perhaps no more than thirty meters away. The Wrath glanced at the timer in his HUD, he'd been running for only three and a half minutes. As he got closer, The Wrath started to make out the sounds of a tank's cannon.

He rushed out into a wide street where the wreck of several Imperial walkers and a dozen Imperial bodies were scattered on the ground. Further down the street, The Wrath spotted the culprit of the destruction. Three Turian V2-Xantros tanks supported by several squads of infantry, who were currently driving back two Imperial walkers.

 _"EAT HOT TUNGSTEN!"_ The lead tank fired several rounds from its main cannon. One of the walkers dropped, with its head severed from its body. The last walker was now in full retreat.

The two other tanks turned their turrets to finish it off, when suddenly The Wrath landed on top of the rightmost Xantros. With his lightsabers he sheered off the main gun, then cut a circle out of its turret and unleashed a stream of Force Lightning into the tank. The sound of screaming Turians and exploding electronics could be heard coming from inside. Smoke began to rise from out of the hole, and he stopped.

By then the lead tank had swiveled its turret to aim at The Wrath. _"BUH BYE ALIEN FREAK!"_

The Wrath jumped out of the way just as its main cannon fired, the shot instead destroyed a two story building that he'd been standing in front of. He landed between the Turians and the Imperial walker.

"Spirits! That guy just took out tank!" said one of the Turian soldiers.

"Calm down!" A sergeant ordered. "It's just one of them!"

 _"STOP ACTING LIKE DAMNED ASARI YOU SPIT SUCKERS! KILL HIM ALREADY!"_ a voice screamed from the lead tank.

"Yes Major! Soldiers, prepare to-!"

Before any of them could react, The Wrath reached out a hand and flexed his power. A whole squad of soldiers were splattered into blue blood stains, while the tank they had been standing in front of was ripped in half, leaving nothing more than its two sets of large wheels.

The Wrath threw out his other hand and cast a storm of Force Lightning, frying the rest of the Turians to a crisp. The lightning lashed at the lead tank as well, but its occupants remained unharmed thanks to the vehicle's thick armor that had been hardened against electrical attacks.

 _"NICE LIGHT SHOW!"_

Twin accelerator machine guns fired from the _Unbreakable Stronghold's_ hull. The Wrath easily, almost casually, intercepted each round with his lightsabers, his blades and hands moving faster than anyone present could see.

The _Unbreakable Stronghold_ fired its main gun. The Wrath nonchalantly tilted himself to the side and let the round pass by.

The guns stopped. The Wrath pointed his lightsaber at the tank, and it flew from his hand to lodge its blade in the tank's turret.

 _"HAHAHA! I HAVE AN 8 MILLION CREDIT WAR MACHINE, AND YOU'RE ATTACKING ME WITH A WEAPON FROM THE FEUDAL ERA? YOU'RE EVEN DUMBER THAN THESE OVERGROWN LIZARDS!"_ This Turian was beginning to irk The Wrath. But while the Turian ran his mouth, The Wrath's lightsaber burned its way through the tank's thick armor, until finally...

 _"I BET YOUR MOTHER LIKED TO FUCK WITH VORCHAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHH!"_ The cry of pain brought a smirk to The Wrath's lips.

The crew of _Unbreakable Stronghold_ stared in silent horror at Major Brucion, a lightsaber sticking through his chest, forever silencing him.

With the Force, The Wrath recalled his lightsaber, guiding it to fly back out the perfect hole it had burned through the tank. A moment later, the _Unbreakable Stronghold's_ hatch flew open.

"We surrender!" A Turian came out holding his hands in the air. "We surrender! Please! For the love of the Spirits, don't kill us!"

The Wrath waited for the whole crew to exit the tank and line themselves up in front of him. He let them squirm for a little while under the gaze of his cold black eyes. Then he executed a single crosscut with his right blade, killing them all.

"L-Lord Wrath." The Wrath turned to see one of the pilots of the surviving walker, his upper torso poking out of its top hatch. "T-thank you for rescuing us lord. You have our most humblest apologies for not being able to hold this position. We...we submit ourselves to your judgement for having failed our mission."

He allowed the pilot to squirm under his gaze, as he had with the Turians. He could sense the fear rolling off both the one that he could see and the one still inside of the walker.

 **"Your loyalty and honesty is noted,"** The Wrath finally said. **"Retreat back to the second line and gather reinforcements. Then return to this positon and hold it."**

The pilot visibly relaxed. "Yes lord! At once!" He disappeared back into the walker and The Wrath watched as the machine walked off further into the city.

 **"Quinn."** The general's face appeared in the corner of his HUD.

 _"Yes my lord?"_

 **"The tanks have been dealt with. Find me something else to kill."**

* * *

 **The Shroud**

"Spear One is falling back!"

"Artemic Company is reporting a full retreat!"

"Enemy in sector eight is launching an offensive!"

"Major Brucion is reported KIA!"

"I've got reports of whole platoons and companies being wiped out by a single enemy individual."

"What are your orders General?"

Castius stared at the holographic display before him with his head hung low. He finally understood how Desolas Arterius must have felt during the Relay 314 incident: overwhelmed and angry. His pride as the leader of his troops had been hurt. He could blame this loss on any number of reasons: the enemy's advanced weapons, the unfamiliarity of the terrain, the unexpected numbers. But ultimately it had been his decisions that had led the 141st to reach over 65% casualties.

And it would be his decision right now that would save what remained.

"Order a general retreat," Castius finally said. The words left a bad taste in his mouth.

Silence fell over the entire room, and all eyes landed on the general.

"You heard me!" he shouted, "get our soldiers out of there! Now!"

"You heard the general! Get them all out of there!" ordered Roma.

A chorus of "Yes Sir"'s went out.

"Sir? What about Raptor squad?" A nearby officer asked. "They're still behind enemy lines."

"When was our last contact with Raptor Lead?" Castius asked.

"Twenty one minutes ago sir, nothing since then. Something is blocking their signal. They...they might be gone sir."

Castius prayed that wasn't the case. Raptor squad were the only ones that could make sure the sacrifices of his men weren't for nothing.

* * *

 **Aboard the _Steadfast_...**

Tela Vasir was _pissed_!

No, pissed wasn't strong enough of a word. She was...appalled, or maybe _fucking_ furious. Yes, that was better.

First all of the weird shit had happened: new alien species, handheld laser weapons, ship-based laser weapons that were far superior to GARDIAN systems. All of that was shit she could process, after all, she'd lived for nearly six centuries, she'd seen plenty of weird shit in her life.

But what had really made Tela lose her temper was Fleet Admiral Kivara Regirus.

About ten minutes ago Fleet Admiral Regirus had contacted her to reveal her discovery. The enemy, which was even now ripping the 9th fleet apart, was after the Council ambassadors. They wanted them alive based on the extreme steps they'd taken so far to avoid the destruction of the _Steadfast_. Tela could accept that explanation, she could even applaud Regirus for deducing it.

But then Regirus had ordered that the ambassadors be kept _on_ the _Steadfast_. She had reasoned that since the _Steadfast_ was the most important ship in the fleet, the ambassadors should stay on in order to provide the dreadnought with an advantage. Regirus then took it a step further, by explaining her plan. Once the _Steadfast's_ systems were brought back online, she would have it charge the enemy fleet. Using the ambassadors as a sort of shield, the _Steadfast_ would single handedly annihilate the enemy.

Tela's reaction had been a mixture of disbelief and pity. The woman had clearly lost her mind. The only reason the Spectre hadn't shot her was that it would have taken too long for Tela to walk to the bridge and do it herself. The Asari would have to settle with foiling Regirus's mad plan and leaving her to die.

This entire mission had been folly from the beginning. Now she only hoped that they could escape this catastrophe before it was too late.

Accompanied by two of her huntresses, Tela was now on her way back to the ambassadors to inform them that they would be leaving the _Steadfast_ and departing back to the Citadel as swiftly as possible.

"Contact the _Joining Tide_ , tell Matriarch Edaria to prep for departure," she ordered.

"Yes Spectre Vasir," said Lezea, the huntress on her right.

"Call Diala, tell her to prepare the ambassadors to move," Tela added.

"At once ma'am," said Meretis, the huntress on her left.

The Asari continued down the wide hallway, they ran into a number of frantic Turian crew that were desperately trying to restore the _Steadfast's_ systems. As they neared the conference room that the ambassadors were being kept in, they passed Turian marines who had been assigned to assist Tela in protecting her charges. She noted that there were more of them than before. Had Regirus sent extra squads?

At the door they were to the conference room they were greeted by Lieutenant Prion. He was a large Turian with brown plates and bright yellow marks painted on his face.

"Spectre Vasir," he saluted her.

"Lieutenant," she responded with a nod. "I see we got some extra help since last I was here."

The Turian nodded. "The Admiral sent ten more squads. With the intruders on board, I figured we can't be too careful."

"I see. That's good." Unless I have to waste time cutting through them to get the ambassadors out of here, she thought. "I assume my people updated you on the situation?"

"They did. I was also contacted by Admiral Regirus," he added.

No doubt with orders to detain her and keep the ambassadors on the ship at all costs. Tela casually rested her hand on the pommel of the sword at her waist. It was a beautiful blade, crafted by the finest weapon smiths on Illium. The weapon had accompanied Tela through her days as a huntress, and then as a Spectre. It was, quite frankly, her closest companion.

With a single move, it could separate Prion's head from his body. But Tela held back.

"And what did the Admiral tell you?" Killing their Turian marine escort would be unfortunate, but it wouldn't be the worst thing she'd ever done.

Prion smiled knowingly. "Don't know," he finally said. "Too much static, comms must still be out. I can only assume that I am to assist you in anyway possible in getting the ambassadors the hell out of here."

Tela's hand fell away from her sword. "That sounds about right."

"Of course I am to make sure that the ambassadors reach safety. Which means my men and I will have hitch a ride out of here on your ship."

"Away from the fight?" Tela quirked a brow.

"We all have to make sacrifices for the greater good," Prion said. Tela smiled at that. She could appreciate a set of strong survival instincts. In her opinion it was much better than the 'never surrender, never retreat' bullshit that the Hierarchy usually touted.

She looked up and down the hall, counting the number of Turians on guard. There would be room, she decided, and if there wasn't they could always leave a squad or two behind.

"I think the _Joining Tide_ can accommodate you and your men."

"I'm glad to hear it," said Prion.

Tela gestured to the door. "Shall we?"

Inside the ambassadors sat gathered around a large rectangular table. Standing around the room were four Asari huntresses, the rest of Tela's team, who as of right now were the only ones on the ship she trusted not to stab her in the back.

Diala, a Matriarch with turquoise and purple face paint, the eldest of her huntresses, was the first to greet the Spectre. "Ma'am, the ambassadors are ready to move out when you are."

"Thank you Diala, I don't know what I'd do without you." Tela moved to the table to address the ambassadors. "Ambassadors, as my second has no doubt told you the mission is a failure. The Krogan have engaged the 141st Legion and the 9th Fleet, and are by all reports winning. I'm afraid peace talks are no longer on the table, it is time for me to get you out of this system and back to the safety of the Citadel."

"So it's true then?" asked the Salarian ambassador, Esheel, her voice trembling, "the Krogan have raised an army and built a fleet?"

"That, or they have allied with someone who did it for them," answered Tela.

"We never should have neutered them," the Turian ambassador, Quentius half whispered. "This is what we get for damning a species to extinction."

"Damning them?! If anything this proves we should have taken it a step further and finished the job!" Esheel slammed a fist on the table. Tela, in all her years, had never heard a Salarian Dalatrass shout. It was an unpleasant thing, like a high pitched squawk.

"Perhaps we should argue about the consequences and morals of past actions, after we are safely away?" Irissa, the Asari ambassador, suggested.

"I quite agree," added Udina, the Human ambassador. "Spectre Vasir, if you would be so kind?"

Tela gestured toward the door. "This way please."

They moved at a brisk pace in a standard package escort formation. The ambassadors were kept at the center of three separate group. Each group was kept no less than 10 meters from one another, enough distance so that they couldn't all be pulled away at once if the enemy had a biotic or stun grenades. Each escort group consisted of two of her huntresses, along with a dozen Turian marines, and one ambassador.

Tela had placed herself at the head of the first group with Lieutenant Prion, guarding Ambassador Irissa. It might have seemed like favoritism, placing herself with the ambassador of her own species, but Tela didn't care. T'Aes Irissa was the second daughter of Matriarch Vena Irissa, Head of House Irissa, one of the oldest houses in Asari culture. Comparatively the other ambassadors had much more meager standings in their respective species.

"I made use of the ten extra squads the Fleet Admiral loaned us," said Prion. "I sent them ahead to make sure our route to your ship is cleared. No intruder intercepts us without first running into them."

The door ahead of them split open.

And on the other side, waiting for them, was the enemy.

Tela's group came to an immediate halt. Tela and her huntresses all drew their blades, filling the hall with sharp metallic hisses.

Two figures dressed in black stood alone in the hall.

No, not alone. The deck was littered with bodies, Turian bodies. It didn't take Tela very long to realize that this had been the ten extra squads of marines that had been sent ahead of them to keep the route to the _Joining Tide_ clear. Tela took quick glances at their injuries: burning slash marks, blunt force trauma, broken bones, none of them had died clean deaths. She turned her eyes to the two figures, and she couldn't find a single scratch on either of them.

The larger of the two was obviously Human. His skin was dusky, and his long hair had been braided into dreadlocks. He was crouched, with his knee in the back of a Turian crewman and his hands around the crewman's head. His lips were twisted into a cruel smile, and his blood red eyes settled heavily on Tela.

The smaller one was much more slender and more feminine than her counterpart. It was hard to make out her facial features, hidden as they were under the hood of her half-cloak. But Tela thought that she could see brown fur and a pair of yellow feline eyes.

"R-run..." the surviving crewman managed to wheeze out, right before the Human snapped his neck with a quick twist.

He then stood to his full height, revealing that he was much taller than his partner. There was only two of them, but just looking at the carnage surrounding them, Tela knew that these two were no joke. They'd taken out 70 well armed and experienced marines without taking any hits themselves. Tela didn't know if they had taken casualties that she could see, or if there were more of them out there, but she knew one thing for sure: these two weren't letting her group leave without a fight.

"Lieutenant Prion, I suggest you take the ambassadors on a different route. Me and my huntresses will handle this."

Prion nodded. "We'll take the long way."

Tela kept her eyes fixed on the two figures in front of her. She listened as Prion led his men back down the hall they'd come, taking the ambassadors with them. They'd find an alternate route, in the mean time it was Tela's job to deal with these two.

Her huntresses moved to take position on either side of her. An unspoken acknowledgement passed between the Asari, as one they activated the Eezo cores in their swords, surrounding the blades with blue Warp energy.

In response, the two intruders filled their hands with metal cylinders. This perplexed Tela at first, until blood red blades extended from both cylinders. The smaller one now held a sword of pure energy, while her Human partner held a double-bladed staff variant. Both weapons hummed with palpable power.

"Whoever you are," Tela began. "You have made a grave error attacking this ship. You have no idea the sleeping giant you have awakened. I suggest that you surrender yourselves now, or me and my girls will show you no mercy."

The Human chuckled and pointed with his staff. "Look Marshalla, the little Spectre thinks she can frighten us with empty threats."

'Marshalla' did not respond.

"It is you who has no idea what is to come Asari," continued the Human. "This battle here is but the first of many to come. You will wish that you had surrendered to _us_ , when Illium burns, and the Citadel is ours."

A ripple of anger and unease passed through the huntresses. Tela felt it as well, but quashed it down with discipline built from hundreds of years. She pointed her own sword at the arrogant Human.

"This is the last warning I will give either of you. Surrender, or die."

"Lions do not surrender to sheep," replied the Human.

"Enough words Zhaff." The smaller of the two finally spoke, and Tela could have sworn a subtle purr accompanied her words. Just like a cat.

Both Zhaff and Marshalla dropped into a combat stance. Tela and her huntresses did the same in response. The Asari outnumbered their opponents by five, and yet the two intruders seemed confident in their ability to deal. Either they were very arrogant, or very good. Tela hoped it was the former.

"You were warned," said Tela, as she adopted a hanging guard stance. "May the Goddess grant you mercy in death, for we certainly will not."

This time it was Marshalla who smiled cruelly. "There are things far more terrible than death, Spectre."

Without warning the two Sith Apprentices both stretched out a hand. Tela prepared herself for a Biotic attack, but was surprised when she and all her huntresses were sent hurtling down the hallway. Tela immediately increased her mass, and landed back on her feet. A moment later, her huntresses did the same. The Spectre was stunned by what had just happened, and when she recovered her senses, Marshalla had already closed the distance between them. Tela's reflexes saved her, as she brought her sword up just in time to parry the Sith's overhead strike.

Their blades crackled and whined, as conflicting fields of power struggled and mixed against one another. Tela stared defiantly into the eyes of her opponent, as Zhaff eagerly engaged her huntresses.

 _The battle, had only just begun._

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Reader: HEY! WHERE ARE THE JEDI!? I WAS PROMISED JEDI!**

 **Me: Well Timmy, if that is your real name, this chapter turned out to be bigger than I thought it would be, so I had to split it. The next update has the Jedi part.**

 **Reader: You a liar man! How dare you lie!**

 **Me: I didn't lie, I just couldn't keep my promise, lol.**

 **Anyway, in all seriousness I am very sorry for building up Jedi hype again and not delivering. I just didn't expect this chapter to be so big! But the next chapter will be the end of this bloody arc and then we will be returning to Shepard.**

 **We might also get some more Revan next chapter, see what he's doing with the Geth.**

 **Oh, and we're definitely getting Sith Apprentices vs Asari Huntresses. That's going to be fun.**

 **So please leave a review telling me what you all thought! Seriously! I need the feed back!**


	17. Chapter 11: Tragedy of Tuchanka, Finale

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts Ltd and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **RabidArmenian -** I'm glad that it was worth the wait, I hope this one is as well!  
 **Guest -** Aw, your gonna make me blush  
 **Old one Griffin -** They are pretty cool aren't they?  
 **hunter 139 -** I'm glad someone is wondering who the spy is. I can neither confirm nor deny your guess, but I will say that it will be eventually revealed.  
 **deadtrooper -** I hope your ready for some Asari vs Sith  
 **Tdritzman** \- Thank you for your words! Though the story will continue showing the Sith Empire as the superior power, the Citadel species will get some good hits in as well. I like to think of my story as kind of like the Covenant vs Humanity in the Halo franchise, with the Sith being the Covenant and the Citadel being Humanity.  
 **AlextheSouthParkGhostRider -** Well, I guess that depends on whose in control, Alex or the Ghost Rider? If it's Alex, then maybe a force user could win. If it's all Ghost Rider, then yeah, force user is in trouble.  
 **CapitalClassShip** \- And this is only an opening skirmish, just imagine what the full war will be like.  
 **mteran305** \- I've got plans for the Reapers, don't you worry about that.  
 **FerunaLutelou** \- Here it is!  
 **Wolpe -** Your welcome! Have another one!  
 **Guest since ch1 -** Hey there! I don't want to give anything away. But I will say that the "Lair of the Shadow Broker" storyline hasn't happened yet. So the things you theorized could happen. However, Liara is probably low on the list of targets. Right now the Sith want to take over the galaxy, so they're going to be after public leaders like the Primarch or Matriarchs of powerful Asari houses. HK-47 may appear in the future, meatbag. As for the bounty hunter, I don't think they'll be getting the Dark Saber, I prefer to keep canon and legends separate.  
 **1nt3rD1ct0r** \- Thank you! We'll be getting a lot more Revan soon. See below.  
 **Eipok -** lol, he's no Brian Cox, but Wreav knows a thing or two about speeches.  
 **a fan -** I will.  
 **TheHungryWolf -** I have plans for Tela, she'll get her due.  
 **Blazblade -** I don't want to give any spoilers. But the ME races will put up a good fight, and there will be reasons why the Sith don't immediately conquer everything. The problem of two humanities will be addressed. Just wait and see.  
 **Guest -** The Master from the Revanite cult wasn't right, I can tell you that. We'll get to that part of the story...some day.  
 **Mandalorian Runescaper -** Thank you, and yes, a lot of time has been spent on this arc. I honestly did not expect it to take as long as I did, but that's just how it is sometimes. Don't worry, the consequences of this battle shall be felt for some time to come. There's a reason why the Sith let the Turians attack Tuchanka instead of immediately attacking the Citadel and all the home worlds.  
 **Sesame Chikn -** Thank you for your kind words! Mandalorians will be here, count on that. Jedi will have their part, count on that. Please write reviews as long as you want, the longer the better! Garrus's father isn't dead yet, read this chapter and see.  
 **WriteAnon -** heh, yeah A LOT of OC's have died lately. But that's just war, and I want there to be real stakes. But I get what you mean, and don't worry, we'll take a bit of a break from all of this craziness in the chapters to come.  
 **Guest** \- The Wrath and Kalros? Nah, that could never happen *wink*.

 **Oh! My! God! Thank you all for such overwhelming amounts of feedback! I had no idea so many people read this story! THANK YOU! Sincerely! THANK YOU ALL!**

 **Anyway, enough groveling. On with the show!**

 **A small note. In the previous chapter there was an Asari named:** Kela **. I have gone back to that chapter and changed her name to** Diala **for the simple reason that** Kela **sounds way too similar to** Tela **, and it could cause some confusion.**

 **As always, please leave feedback on what you thought of the chapter and the story!**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 11 – Tragedy on Tuchanka, Finale**

* * *

 **(John Williams - Duel of the Fates)**

 **Aboard the** _ **Steadfast...**_

Tela deflected Marshalla's opening flurry of strikes and stepped into her guard, landing a biotic-empowered palm strike to Marshalla's sternum and sending the Sith into a wall, denting it. One of Tela's huntresses immediately followed up with a Biotic Charge to get close, and then a thrust of her sword straight to Marshalla's breasts. But the Sith ducked and rolled under the blade, letting the huntress's blade sink into the wall instead, then she came up and decapitated the huntress with a single stroke.

The duel had only gone on for four minutes so far, and already three of Tela's huntresses were dead. Those Asari were some of the finest warrior's Tela had ever had the pleasure of knowing. They'd all been trained by some of the best blademasters among the Asari. Each of them had over two centuries of combat experience. Some of them had been with her for twice that time.

But the Sith apprentices had already proven to be more than a match. For they had been trained by the man who was arguably the greatest blades master of his era.

Nalim had died first. When the duel had first started, Zhaff had barreled through Tela's huntresses like a weaponized tornado, spinning his saberstaff wildly in all directions. Nalim had been caught off guard and had paid for it by being disemboweled.

Relli had followed soon after. She had been Nalim's lover, and had attempted to avenge her by striking Zhaff in the back. The Sith had impaled her on his saberstaff's back blade, and tossed her corpse onto the ground contemptuously.

Caf'ra had been the third and most recent, decapitated, her head now rolled off one way while her body fell the other way.

But their deaths had served a purpose. The remaining four Asari warriors were now on guard. The death of their sisters had shown how dangerous their foes were, and made them very, very angry. They were driven by more than the need to accomplish their mission now. Now they wanted revenge.

Diala, Lezea, and Meretis fought like demonesses. With their combined fury they held Zhaff back but were unable to push him any farther. With his saberstaff the Human Sith had the perfect weapon to fend off multiple opponents.

"Goddess's Breath!" Diala, the eldest huntress, suddenly called out. To the Sith, it might have sounded like an Asari curse, but to the Huntress's sisters it was an order.

Lezea and Meretis understood immediately. Together they stretched out their hands and unleashed a combined Push. Zhaff saw it coming and stretched out his own hand and used the Force to hold back the incoming wave of blue energy. But then Diala added her own Push to the mix. Zhaff growled and strained against them, but ultimately was unable to overpower them. His defense was overwhelmed, and he was thrown down the hall, but quickly rolled back up to his feet. Lezea and Meretis came at him with overhead slashes, one from the left the other form the right, but the Sith brought up his saberstaff just in time to block both of them.

The three combatants locked their weapons and struggled against each other, this time physically. Then Diala came out of a Charge with a swing to slice Zhaff apart at the waist, but the Sith broke the lock and stepped back just in time, the blade merely drawing a thin line across his stomach. He growled at the sight of his own blood and furiously retaliated.

Meanwhile, Tela fought Marshalla. She channeled more Warp energy into her sword, then unleashed it with three strokes, sending three crescent arcs of Warp energy at Marshalla. The female Sith ran toward the arcs, then just as they were about to hit, she slid under them on her knees, her back nearly touching the ground. When she came back up Marshalla swept Tela's legs out from under her. But the Spectre called on her Biotics to make her float, she flipped backwards, and landed on her feet five meters away. Tela then scraped the tip of her sword along the deck, channeling her power, and bringing out a Biotic Shockwave, which she sent rolling at the Sith.

Marshalla leapt over it, but Tela then caught the Sith in mid-air with a Slam, smashing her up against the ceiling where the Spectre held her.

"Got ya!" shouted Tela. Victory seemed close at hand for the Spectre. But she didn't see Marshalla form a pincer with her free hand.

Tela felt something invisible wrap itself around her neck, squeezing her windpipe, choking the life from her. She looked up at the pinned Sith on the ceiling, and saw how Marshalla's feline eyes were concentrated upon her. Tela didn't know how, but she knew the Sith was somehow doing this. With a shout she cast another Slam and brought Marshalla crashing down onto the deck, leaving a large crater.

Marshalla let out a cry of pain and the invisible fingers on Tela's neck disappeared. Ignoring the pain she walked over toward the motionless Sith and raised her blade to finish the job. Suddenly Marshalla grabbed Tela's legs in a scissor take down, the Spectre was caught off guard, and she found her back hitting the deck. Marshalla was about to finish Tela before the Spectre could rise back up. But then she sensed the danger that Zhaff was in.

At the same time, Zhaff found himself put on his back foot. He was incredibly skilled but so were his opponents, they outnumbered him, and he was beginning to lose his temper. Once again the two younger huntresses tied up his weapon, then the elder huntress Diala slid into a Charge, knocking Zhaff's feet out from under him. Lezea followed up by using her Biotics to pin him to the deck, and Meretis went in for the kill.

Seeing this, Marshalla threw her lightsaber.

Meretis' blade was just an inch away from opening Zhaff's neck, when suddenly Marshalla's lightsaber impaled her through the back. The Asari gasped her last breath, Marshalla recalled her weapon to her hand just in time to defend against a strike from Tela, aimed at her waist.

Meretis dropped to the ground a second later, and died.

"NO!" screamed Lezea.

"Stay focused!" Diala ordered, but it was too late. The huntress's grief had caused her to lose concentration, and the Biotic field on Zhaff disappeared.

Zhaff was up instantly, and an angered Lezea attempted to thrust her sword into his chest, only to receive a kick to her sternum that sent the huntress sprawling to the deck. Diala executed a Charge, appearing out of a blue streak to stand between Lezea and Zhaff, then cast a powerful Flare at the Human.

The Biotic explosion shook the corridor and might have ended the Sith then and there, had he not leaped back at the last second, avoiding the blue fire that consumed and twisted the metal floor and walls. Zhaff snarled with frustration as Lezea stood back up, and faced him with Diala. With a roar Zhaff charged at them.

While her huntresses reengaged their opponent, Tela slammed her sword against Marshalla's lightsaber, causing an ear splitting crackle to fill the hall, and locking their blades.

"Who are you people!" she demanded. "What do you want with the ambassadors?!"

"My master has ordered their capture, and my master shall have what he wants!" Marshalla hissed back.

Tela broke the blade lock and Marshalla leaped back to put distance between them, but then Tela slapped her palm to the floor, casting a quick Lift field that pushed Marshalla up into the air, where she floated helplessly.

"You're master is going to be real disappointed when I send him your head in a box!"

Tela cast a Pull at the floating Sith, reeling her in towards the Spectre's waiting blade.

At the same moment, Zhaff threw out his hands and unleashed a wave of power. Diala and Lezea were both thrown aside, but both surrounded themselves with a kinetic bubble, cushioning their collisions with the walls. But Zhaff followed up by blasting Diala with the Force, sending the elder huntress hurling down the corridor into Tela's backside.

Both Asari went down in a pile, and Marshalla was spared impalement.

Lezea attacked Zhaff, screaming and spitting. "YOU'LL PAY FOR WHAT YOU DID TO MERETIS!"

Zhaff simply sneered, then slapped Lezea's blade aside with one strike of his saberstaff, then cut off both of her hands with a second strike. The Asari huntress screamed, until Zhaff grabbed her by the throat, and squeezed tight. Lezea's neck snapped like a twig, and the Sith tossed her body aside with contempt.

"Goddess these fuckers are tough," Diala grunted as she rose to her feet.

"You still with me?" asked Tela as she too rose.

"Of course, but I don't think that'll matter very soon. These fuckers are no joke Vasir. We need to stir some serious tides if we're going to beat them."

"Let's switch dance partners." Together the two Asari switched their opponents. Diala now faced Marshalla while Tela faced Zhaff.

The Human Sith smiled. Vasir had been the one he'd been truly after this whole time, she was the Spectre after all.

Without warning, Tela whipped out her sidearm, a Mk.3 Acolyte pistol, and rapidly fired off seven shots. The move caught Zhaff by surprise, though he reacted quickly, and blocked the rounds with his saberstaff. Tela continued to fire her pistol as she advanced towards the Sith, then she began to channel her Biotic power down her sword and sent several arcs of Warp energy with several elegant swings.

Meanwhile, Diala reached down and scooped up the blade of one of the fallen Huntresses. She gave her newly acquired second sword several test swings before channeling Biotic power into its blade as well.

Marshalla pulled back her lips, revealing a set of sharp fangs, and let out a feline hiss.

"Come on you hairy freak! Time to get declawed!" Diala scraped the blades of her swords against one another, letting out an awful noise. Then she ran the tips of both along the floor and unleashed two Biotic Shockwaves at once. Marshalla was caught by surprise, she instinctively dodged one, only to be bowled over by the second.

She hissed, this time in pain as the cascading Biotic explosions tore into her. The Sith ended up with her back on the floor. Diala executed a Charge, teleporting above her, and came down on Marshalla with both her swords.

* * *

Lieutenant Prion didn't care much for Asari. They were a race of whores in his opinion. What else would you call a race that encouraged inter-species fucking? Pus, they were all Biotic, which offended his traditionalist Turian views.

But he had to admit, Spectre Vasir knew how to think ahead.

Instead of having the _Joining Tide_ parked in the _Steadfast's_ hangar bay, she'd ordered it to dock at one of the dreadnought's airlocks. It hadn't seemed practical choice to him at first. A stray shot from the enemy ships, and the _Joining Tide_ could be reduced to slag, along with any chance of escape. But given that the hangar was currently in the hands of the enemy, it had turned out to be the right move. Plus, launching from vacuum meant a faster take off, which was just fine in Prion's book.

"We're almost there ambassadors," Prion said. "Just a little bit further."

Vasir had said the _Joining Tide_ was docked with airlock 8-4. Which meant it was just on the other side of the door at the end of the hall. The door's holographic glyph showed it was locked.

Sergeant Gisav, his second in command, suddenly moved to walk beside him. "Sir, may I ask a question?" asked he asked.

"What is it sergeant?"

"The Asari on the ship sir. They'll want to wait for the Spectre before launching."

"And?"

"And what if they want to wait too long? What if their loyalty to Spectre Vasir conflicts with our need to stay alive?"

"Then we remove them sergeant, simple as that," said Prion.

Sergeant Gisav nodded. "Yes sir, good to hear that sir."

Prion returned the nod, then signaled one of the squads from behind to move up to the front.

"Get that door open," he ordered.

"Yes sir!"

The squad moved ahead to the door and one of the marines interfaced with the glyph using their Omni-tool. Prion heard a negative beep a moment later.

"It's not accepting the usual codes sir," said the marine.

"Hmm, not surprising. Probably needs command clearance." Prion walked up to the door, activated his Omni-tool, and submitted his officer's codes. The holographic glyph turned from red to green. "There that ought to do it. Let's meet our ride out of this system."

But before the lieutenant could open the door, it slid open itself, revealing ten figures in black armor, pointing blaster rifles at the Turians.

"SURPRISE!" said Pierce, and his squad opened fire.

Prion barely had time to scream before a red bolt took him in the face.

* * *

Marshalla rolled to the side at the last moment, and Diala's swords drew angry wounds into the floor where the Cathar had just been. She quickly jumped to her feet, and prepared to retaliate, only to be flattened against the wall by Biotic Push, channeled through a swing of Diala's left sword. The Sith retaliated and slammed Diala against the opposite wall with the power of the Force.

But just as she had cushioned her impact against the wall with a Force barrier, the Asari huntress did the same with her Biotic powers. In the end, neither of them had been particularly damaged by the other.

Her lack of progress in killing the Asari frustrated Marshalla. If only she could summon Force Lightning like her master. But at her current level, she couldn't even create a spark, much less a bolt or a storm. Zhaff was similarly unable to create Force Lightning, and had to settle with using Telekenesis, which the Asari proved they could counter with their Biotic abilities. That didn't matter though. The Wrath was her master, she owed him everything. She would not repay him by failing the mission he had given her.

She spared a glance over at Zhaff and saw that he was similarly at a standstill with Tela Vasir. Though his saberstaff was an excellent weapon for dueling, it suffered when dealing with ranged weaponry, and Zhaff had yet to truly overcome his weapon's drawbacks.

Diala dragged her blades against one another, drawing Marshalla's attention back to her.

"Keeps your eyes on me little fish. Otherwise I'll cut them right out."

Marshalla raised her lightsaber in a Form III guard stance and forced herself not to grin. Having sparred with her master many times, she had a great amount of experience fighting against an opponent that duel wielded weapons.

Suddenly the communicator in her ear chirped. Silently she answered it.

 _"It's Pierce,"_ said a deep gravely voice in her ear.

* * *

"We've got the targets," said Pierce. He paused a moment to execute a Turian marine attempting to crawl away. "We're also stealing a ride off this boat. I suggest you get over here ASAP."

A few moments passed before he heard a response.

 _"No Major Pierce. The mission comes first. Zhaff and I shall find our own way off the ship."_

Pierce was surprised, but he understood, and even approved.

"Copy that, we'll get the packages back to friendly territory," he said. "Good luck. Pierce out."

* * *

Zhaff parried several strikes from Tela's sword, and was about to strike back, when Tela unleashed a Biotic Push through her sword. The Sith apprentice was blown back, but landed on his feet, only for the Spectre to follow up by firing a volley of rounds from her pistol, forcing him to keep on the defensive.

Zhaff ground his teeth. He desperately wanted to tear the Asari apart, but she had adapted to his style of fighting, and was now doing an excellent job of keeping him on his back foot. This was not how things were supposed to go! He was Sith! SITH! He had commanded of a power that bound the universe itself! He should have had no problem dealing with a mutant such as her!

A hand touched his shoulder. Without even looking, he knew that it was Marshalla.

"Time to go," she said, too quiet for the Asari to hear.

"You go if you want, I still have business here."

"The minute they're at a safe distance away, Pierce will contact Admiral Kua, and they'll destroy this vessel. Do you really want to be here when that happens?"

Zhaff didn't respond, which was enough answer for Marshalla.

The two Sith were back to back now with Vasir and Diala on either side of them. The Spectre couldn't hear what they were saying, but she could see their lips moving, so she knew they planning something. Vasir exchanged a look with Diala, and the huntress nodded, confirming that she thought the same. The two readied themselves for the inevitable attack that would soon come.

But were instead surprised.

As one, both Sith sank the red blades of their lightsabers into the deck, and together they sliced a circle around them. The deck plating fell, with the Sith riding it to the level below. Vasir quickly got over her surprise and ran to look over the edge of the circle. As expected, the Sith were nowhere to be seen.

"What the fuck just happened?" asked Diala. "Did they just give up and run?"

"I..." Tela's eyes widened as the realization hit her. "SHIT!"

* * *

 **Aboard the _Joining Tide..._**

"Have you got this?" asked Pierce.

"Sure do Shadow Lead, remember, I scored the highest in flight simulators," said Shadow 4.

"Then get us out of here, pronto."

"Yes sir. But someone will have to detach us from the airlock before we can go."

Pierce groaned, it was always something. "I'll do it. Just be ready to go."

Upon arriving at the open airlock, Pierce found Shadow 5 and Shadow 8 rolling the bodies of the _Joining Tide's_ crew out of the ship. One of the bodies had once been the captain of the ship, Matriarch Edaria. Pierce had personally killed her with shot to the back of the head. Taking down Asari was easy once you neutralized their Biotics with an EMP grenade.

"That the last one?" asked Pierce.

"Yes sir," said Shadow 5.

"Good. Shadow 8 go help Shadow 4 with piloting this thing. Shadow 5, get back to 2 and 7, help them guard the package. We're-" A blue explosion at the end of the hall suddenly cut Pierce off. From out of the fire, stepped out a very angry looking Tela Vasir, her body glowing with wild blue energy. Pierce's reaction was immediate. "Suppressing fire!"

Shadow 5 and Shadow 8 shouldered their rifles and fired accurate bursts of red energy at the Spectre. Tela threw up her hand and formed an oval shield out in front of her, at the same time she lightened her mass to a tenth of her original and began to sprint towards the airlock at 10 times her regular speed.

Pierce was honestly surprised to see the Spectre here. Though they weren't nearly as powerful as their master, Zhaff and Marshalla were no joke when it came to fighting. Yet this Asari had survived an encounter with both of them. It was impressive to say the least, and if it were another time Pierce would have had his team stay and eliminate what could potentially be a threat in the future.

But he had his orders.

He tapped a key on a nearby control pad, and the airlock doors closed with a hiss as the air pressurized. Tela reached them just as the doors locked shut.

"NO!" Pierce heard her scream. The door suddenly shuddered and groaned as something struck it with incredible force. He surmised that she was attempting to break it down with her Biotics. No doubt she'd succeed shortly, but by then they'd already be gone. Still, they had a few moments to spare.

Pierce looked through the small window provided by the airlock door, and saw the Spectre on the other side. Her teeth were bared in a feral grimace, and Biotic energy was roiling off of her body in unrestrained bursts. She spotted him and fired a look so hateful it would have made a Sith Lord give pause. But Pierce just sneered, and waved goodbye. The Asari Spectre screamed and unleashed another Biotic attack on the door, denting it, as Pierce walked away.

"Shadow 4, the airlock is closed and we're disengaged. Get us out of here," Pierce ordered, then added. "Quickly."

* * *

"Goddess damn it all," Vasir muttered as she watched the _Joining Tide_ pull away, and grow smaller and smaller.

"What do we do now?" asked Diala. Vasir had actually forgotten about the huntress. When she'd come to realization of what had happened, she had rushed off at top speed, the only thing on her mind had been that she had failed her mission. She swore to Athame that it would not happen again.

"We do our job," Vasir replied. She activated her Omni-tool and made a call to the bridge. "Admiral Regirus! The _Joining Tide_ has been captured by the enemy! I need you to divert ships to intercept it! The _Joining Tide_ must not be lost! Do you read?"

No response.

"Admiral?! ADMIRAL REGIRUS! DO YOU-?!"

The _Steadfast_ suddenly shook, and the two Asari nearly stumbled to their knees.

"What the hell was that?!" asked Diala.

* * *

 **On the** ** _Steadfast's_** **bridge...**

 _"Admiral Regirus! What the fuck is happening out there?!"_

The voice of Tela Vasir came from the console right next to the Admiral. But for Kivara, it might as well have been a million light years away. Because the _Steadfast_ was dying.

It had started happening just a few moments ago. The enemy ships that had worked so hard to cripple the Turian dreadnought without destroying it, suddenly changed their tune and began to mercilessly bombard the _Steadfast_. Weapons systems had been the first thing to go. A precision strike from several enemy frigates had knocked out the _Steadfast's_ twin Thanix cannons. Power had been restored to the engines, but shortly after they'd been hit by another volley of those system disrupting blue lasers.

The _Steadfast's_ armor was boiling away now under the constant fire of the enemy's energy weapons. Kivara could do nothing but watch, as her ship died before her very eyes.

"Admiral Regirus! The _Steadfast_ is lost!" said one of her officers.

"We...we can't lose," she murmured, her eyes fixed into the distance.

"Admiral! Admiral please! Sound the evacuation."

The word 'evacuation' finally brought Kivara back to the present. She snarled, drew her pistol, and shot the officer in the head. When his body hit the ground, she put two more rounds into him.

"Evacuate?! How dare you! You dare suggest that we run from that monkey!? We are the 9th fleet! We do not retreat! We do not surrender! We win! We always win!" She turned to her crew, waving her sidearm back and forth. "All of you will continue to stay at your stations! We _will_ destroy the enemy! We _will_ win this battle! We will etch my name into the history of our people! Children will sing songs of our glorious victory here!"

"But admiral we can't-"

Kivara shot the officer who had talked in the shoulder. "I will not tolerate insubordination! You will all follow my orders, or I shall have you shot and your corpse thrown out an air-!"

A single shot silenced the entire bridge.

Pain bloomed in Kivara's waist. She reached down and found her hand covered in blue blood, her own blood. Someone had shot her, she turned and saw one of the sensor techs holding a pistol. She didn't recognize him at all, but she could tell that this was probably the first time he'd ever shot at anyone. He was young, his hands were shaking, and his eyes were wide with fear, as though he couldn't believe what he'd just done.

"You damned traitor," Kivara tried to raise her own pistol to execute him, but found she could not move her arm. Then her knees gave out and she crumpled against the bridge railing. "I'll have your head for this."

"Sound the evacuation!" she heard someone shout.

"No..." she whispered weakly. A moment later the evacuation alarms began to blare, and the bridge was filled with a red emergency light.

"That's it! Let's go! Everybody to the escape pods!"

"What about her?" someone asked.

"Leave her."

Kivara ground her teeth. "Traitors! All of you! I'll hunt you all down! I'll see to it that your families are disgraced!"

The Admiral continued to ramble on even as it became clear that there was no one around to hear it. It didn't matter, Kivara knew that she would win this battle. She was destined for glory! She was destined to be remembered by history! She could not die here.

She _would not_ die here.

But as Kivara weakly turned to look out her bridge's viewport, she witnessed the last moments of the _Steadfast_. A shot from an Imperial frigate's turbolaser batteries burned its way through the dreadnought's armor, and struck a vital system inside the ship, resulting in a chain reaction. Fire bloomed from within the _Steadfast_ , tearing it apart from the inside out.

"I...I can't die here..." Kivara whispered, "I must be...remembered."

Finally, the _Steadfast_ exploded, taking with it nearly 8,000 Turian sailors and 500 Turian marines.

Among them was Admiral Kivara Regirus. The explosion would vaporize her corpse, leaving nothing to find, and nothing to bury. In the months that would follow, she would become just another casualty in a long list.

But fate is strange.

Because in death, Kivara Regirus would be granted her wish.

She would be remembered.

Her reckless nature, arrogance, and incompetent command would be attributed as key contributing factors to the military disaster the Turian Hierarchy would from then on call: _The Tragedy of Tuchanka_.

* * *

Tela watched the _Steadfast_ from the viewport of the escape pod.

The mighty dreadnought exploded into a ball of fire. The rest of the 9th fleet would inevitably soon follow. The power of the enemy fleet was simply too much, and without the admiral to coordinate their efforts, the Turians would be left confused and disoriented. Tela estimated that at least 50% of what remained of the 9th fleet would be destroyed before the ship captains decided that retreat was their best option.

Something flashed by the viewport, startling Tela.

"That's the ship that boarded the _Steadfast_ ," Diala pointed.

Was it here to finish them off? Tela felt fear stir in her gut despite her best efforts. Here in space, all of her training, all of her biotic power, meant absolutely nothing. Not even she could survive the cold vaccum of space, even she needed to breath. Her worries turned out to be unfounded however, as the ship turned away from them.

Tela watched it as it came to a hover near a small piece of debris. No, not a piece of debris, an escape pod, just like the one the Asari were using. Some how the ship tethered the escape pod to the bottom of its hull, and then sped off back towards the enemy fleet. Tela would bet a million credits that the two fuckers who'd slaughtered her huntresses were in that escape pod, probably laughing themselves silly with victory.

"I'm plotting a course down to the surface of Tuchanka," announced Diala. "Hopefully some of the troops on the ground are still alive."

"After what we've seen of the enemy fleet, I wouldn't hold my breath," replied Tela.

* * *

 **Tuchanka, The Hollows...**

The Wrath swept his left lightsaber out, channeling out a burst of telekinetic power, and several squads of Turians were hurled through the air. He swept his right lightsaber out, infusing it with Force Lightning and two Turian IFVs exploded.

"Get him!" A squad of Turian Cabals pooled their power together and unleashed a single massive ball of Warp energy that struck The Wrath dead on.

"We got him!" cheered one of the Cabals. But the squad's elation soon died. When the dust settled, it revealed that The Wrath wasn't even scratched. Casually, he brushed some dirt off of his pauldron, then he gripped the whole squad of Cabals with the Force and snapped their necks all at once.

"Hold the line! We have to buy time for the retreat!" a sergeant yelled, his squad stood firmly by his side, numbering 12 in total. They made the mistake of attempting to fire upon The Wrath. He in turn vanished, completely. He moved so quickly that none of the Turians could see his form, until he was already upon them. Then the humming blades of his lightsabers lashed, one strike for each Turian, each one made with perfect form. The Turians fell to the dust, their bodies striking the ground almost all at the exact same time.

 **"Brave soldiers, you're duty is done now,"** The Wrath murmured. It was no easy feat to sacrifice oneself so that others could live. He'd taken the lives of many brave soldiers today. He hadn't been keeping careful count, but he was quite sure that his kill count was over 900 infantrymen, and over 50 various types of vehicles.

 _"My lord,"_ Quinn image appeared in the corner of The Wrath's HUD. _"Are you receiving me?"_

 **"I hear you Quinn. Go ahead."**

 _"Major Pierce has reported in. The Citadel ambassadors have been delivered to the custody of Admiral Kua, all four are unharmed and alive. Only two casualties were sustained on the Major's team."_

 **"And what of Vette, and my apprentices?"** he asked.

 _"Vette apparently stayed on the Fury the whole time. Your apprentices seem unharmed as well."_

 **"What about the enemy fleet?"**

 _"Admiral Kua reports that all of the Turian dreadnoughts, including their fleet flagship, have been destroyed. The rest of the fleet are attempting to retreat. But the Admiral assures me that none will escape the system."_

 **"Very good. The battle on the ground is almost over as well."**

 _"Yes my lord. The enemy is in full retreat. It seems that they are attempting to pull back to the Shroud. If they manage to do so, destroying the rest of them might prove troublesome. The area surrounding the Shroud is infested with Thresher Maw, which makes any assault by ground difficult."_

A far off explosion caught The Wrath's attention. In the distance, he could see the last of the Turian ships that had been sent to provide close orbital support being destroyed. The heavy cruiser that had been identified as the _Honorable_ , commanded by Rear Admiral Futan, was the last one to go down. But eventually a squad of Extinction bombers managed to hit something important with their bombs. The Turian ship dipped down into a nose dive, and disappeared behind one of the surrounding mountains.

Mere moments later, The Wrath saw a flash of light and felt the ground shudder beneath his feet.

 **"It matters little. Their ships are destroyed. They have no means of getting off planet anymore. If we wish, we can simply starve them out."**

 _"As you say my lord,"_ agreed Quinn.

 **"Have a shuttle sent to my location. I wish to visit our new prisoners myself. Continue coordinating efforts on the ground with Lord Medechas and Lord Vyzaan."**

 _"..."_

 **"Quinn?"**

 _"I beg your pardon my lord. But before you depart there is a small matter that I thought I should bring to your attention."_

 **"Speak then."**

 _"As you know, during the battle several of our Anti-Air batteries were destroyed. At the time we had simply thought that the Turian air assets had managed to maneuver through the barrage and get in close enough for a precision air strike. But recently, one of our teams discovered a Turian at one of the sites."_

 **"And? What is so special about this one Turian?"** The Wrath asked.

 _"When our soldiers attempted to capture him, the Turian detonated some sort of explosive, killing himself and several of our soldiers."_

 **"That is not so peculiar. The Turians are proud species. Many of them would rather die in battle than be taken prisoner. And yet...I sense that there is more to this."**

 _"It is as you say my lord. Reports indicate that the Turian in question wore armor with a description matching that of Blackwatch."_

 **"Turian special forces...Wreav. They must be looking for Wreav."**

 _"My thoughts exactly my lord."_

 **"Where is his majesty right now?"**

 _"I sent men to Vaul's Eye to guard him. But it seems he is no longer there. The Krogan there said that he had taken to the field. Apparently his majesty had grown tired of commanding from the back."_

 **"Find him. Now."**

 _"Yes my lord."_

* * *

 **At the Temple of Kaliga...**

Wreav silently touched a hand to the stone alter and grimaced as he found it's once smooth surface to be pockmarked and scratched. This was where offerings were made. Shamans would look over a pilgrims offering and deem whether it was worthy to be given to Kaliga. If it was good enough, the pilgrim would be allowed to personally place the offering on the alter and pray at Kaliga's feet.

Though the Temple remained intact, it had remained unscarred. Pock marks and missing chunks decorated the statue, marring its once perfect and smooth features. Wreav made note to find an artisan after the battle was finished, and to have the damage repaired as soon as possible. Not many Krogan still followed the old ways, even fewer prayed to the gods as they once had. Why would they? What had the gods done for the Krogan lately?

But Wreav still prayed.

He found that it helped him in the worst of times, and prevented him from falling into despair.

His eyes traveled up and fell upon the statue of Kaliga. Even by Krogan standards she was not considered very beautiful. But there was a proud and powerful strength to her features. Krogan looked on her and they saw their mothers, the mothers who kept the safe during their younger years from the plethora of dangers on Tuchanka. The mother who taught them how to live, how to fight, and how to be a true Krogan.

Wreav could remember how many times he had come to this temple, and brought offerings to Kaliga in hopes for a better future for his people.

He remembered the last time...

* * *

 ** _Near the end of the Krogan Rebellions, almost 1000 years ago..._**

 _"I don't understand why we're doing this," said Wrex._

 _"It is tradition," Wreav reminded his brother. Though they only shared a father, and were technically only half-siblings, the two Krogan had always treated each other as full siblings. "With these offerings, Kaliga shall smile down upon us in the battle to come. We will reap vast amounts of glory! Enemies will tumble at our feet!"_

 _"We'd be better served to pack extra ammo and grenades," grumbled Wrex as he hefted his offering: the head of a Borka, a very large creature from a far away planet._

 _Wreav ignored his brother's blasphemy, he was used to it by now. "Personally, I'm hoping that Kalig shall grant me a mate."_

 _"Having a mate's not that great," said Wrex._

 _"Easy for you to say brother. You have Bakara," Wreav pointed out, hoping his jealousy did not show too strongly._

 _"Yeah," a ghost of smile flickered over Wrex's scaly lips, "I guess I do. So what are you offering?"_

 _"This," he said proudly. Wreav held it out to his brother._

 _"A flag?"_

 _"It is the standard of the Turian's 47th battalion. They called themselves 'The Battlemasters'. Such an arrogant an pretentious name. Not all of them combined could have held a candle to a true Krogan Battlemaster."_

 _"Hmm," Wrex nodded approvingly. "I wish I shared your piety brother. I can't help but feel like the gods just don't care about us anymore."_

 _"How can you say that brother? Are we not blessed with glorious war? Are we not conquering the galaxy as our ancestors conquered Tuchanka?"_

 _"Of course, I just...just a bad feeling I guess," said Wrex._

 _"You can tell the gods about it when you make your offering. I'm sure they'll lessen your burdened mind."_

 _"Hmmm, well, I guess it can't hurt."_

* * *

 **Temple of Kaliga, present day...**

Weav breathed in deeply, and opened his eyes.

A familiar stench had brought him back from the memory of better times.

"I smell fresh blood."

* * *

The Krogan had been charged with guarding the temple's entrance. A expertly made gash caused blood to froth from its mouth, before Sitora finally sank her Omni-blade through its crest, and into its brain. Nearby, Caius was doing the same to another Krogan guard. With the help of her team, they slowly lowered the bodies onto the ground, carefully making sure to not to create any kind of noise.

Thermal scans had shown that Wreav was in the center of the temple, protected by a dozen heavily armed guards. Sitora looked down at the Krogan whose life she had just ended, and made note of its armaments.

A shotgun, brand new and shiny.

Heavy armor, also brand new.

A kinetic shield generator, from a high quality brand.

If the ten other guards were similarly kitted out, then it was important that they take out as many as possible silently. A full on fire fight with such well armed enemies would waste unnecessary amounts of time and likely draw attention. They were deep behind enemy lines, they couldn't afford to have any of that.

 _"I've got three more over here,"_ said Raptor 3, over the squad's private channel as they moved into the temple's nave, or the center hallway leading to the main area of worship.

"Take them out quietly," she ordered.

Three more Krogan died in half as many minutes. Seven more to go.

 _"Another over here."_ Sitora spotted another guard walking out from the main chamber, likely to check on the other guards.

"Take him out," she ordered.

Raptor 12 and Raptor 6 moved like shadows, and crept up behind the Krogan. In a flash of practiced motion, the two Blackwatch operatives pounced on their prey. Raptor 12 kicked the Krogan in the back of the knee and pulled the alien backwards, exposing its unprotected throat. Raptor 6 activated his Omni-blade and went in for the kill. Soon the Krogan would die without uttering so much as a whisper.

Except, then the Krogan suddenly reached behind and grabbed Raptor 12 and tossed the Blackwatch operative over its shoulder. Raptor 6 hesitated, but still went in for the kill. But before the silicon-diamond blade could reach his flesh, the Krogan roared out a warning.

"INTRUDERS! INTRU-!"

"Shut it!" Raptor 6 buried his Omni-blade into the Krogan's throat, silencing him but not killing him. Gurgling his own blood, the Krogan somehow managed to grab hold of Raptor 6's head and slam it against a nearby stone column. The Krogan was just about to finish the Turian off, when Cairus fired a single shot, finally putting the alien down.

"You alright 6?"

"I'm...I'm fine," Raptor 6 stumbled to his feet. "I'm fucked up but I'm-" His chest suddenly exploded with blood, and he fell to the temple floor, dead.

"CONTACTS!" screamed Raptor 10, as Krogan poured out into the nave.

"Weapons free! Go loud!" Sitora ordered.

Accelerator fire thundered inside the temple. Eleven Blackwatch operators exchanged fire with six Krogan warriors. Outnumbered and caught off guard, Wreav's bodyguards fought ferociously. Sitora emptied an entire thermal clip's worth of rounds from her Kestar-17 into the side of one guard, only for the Krogan to soak up the damage, turn on her, and fire its shotgun.

She ducked behind a pillar, avoiding both shots. "AP!"

The holographic glyphs on her Kestar-17's barrel switched to grey, indicating AP rounds. Then she tapped on the green Omni-panel on the weapon's side, and it morphed itself, shortening and widening the barrel, until she was holding a combat shotgun. At that moment the Krogan came charging around the pillar, announcing itself with a throaty roar.

Sitora ducked under a wild haymaker, and fired two shots point-blank into the Krogan's left kneecap. It went down with a wail, and she finished it off with another shot to the head that splattered its brains all over the floor.

 _"Raptor 11 is down!"_ someone screamed over the squad's channel.

Sitora peaked from out of her cover to see Raptor 11's body slumped against the adjacent pillar, a massive hole in her chest.

"YOU SIRE FUCKERS!" Raptor 5 activated his armor's micro-jets, launching himself up to the temple's roof.

"Raptor 5 get back into cover!" Sitora ordered, but her words fell on deaf ears. Raptor 5 hovered high above the Krogan with his Kester-17 in sniper configuration. He fired twice, and one of the Krogan went down with twin holes in its head. He fired again, and another Krogan took a round in the shoulder, spinning the alien as it fell back into cover.

Finally one of the Krogan guards found a beat on Raptor 5 and fired a grenade launcher. The grenade soared high into the sky and hit Raptor 5 dead center in his chest where it detonated, and turned Raptor 5 into a puff of blue mist.

"Fuck! Raptor 5 is gone!" Sitora heard her brother Cairus curse.

"Stay focused!" she ordered as she switched her Kester-17 back to assault rifle configuration and sprayed suppressive fire on the remaining Krogan. But the aliens were deeply entrenched in their position, and with only four of them left, they weren't making any mistakes.

Even with the three casualties they'd taken, the Turians still outnumbered the Krogan two to one. But time was not on their side. Every moment they spent slogging in a firefight was time that the thousands on enemy soldiers in the surrounding area could show up. Sitora knew that they needed to pick up the pace.

"Raptor 2!" she called over the team's private channel.

 _"Yes sister?"_ responded Cairus.

"Take Raptor Twelve and Eight, and blow past these sire-fuckers! Thermals show that the only signature not in this room is through that door!" Sitora pointed at the tall open door leading from the nave to the choir, the main area of worship. "We'll provide covering fire! Make sure you don't stop for anything, and make sure Wreav doesn't live to see another day on Tuchanka!"

 _"Got it! Spirits be with you sister! Eight! Twelve! Execute: Spirits of Wind!"_ The three Blackwatch operatives activated their armor's microjets and rose to a soft hover one foot above the ground. _"Max acceleration! Try not to splatter yourself against a wall or something"_

In a single moment the three Blackwatch operatives shot across the temple nave like a trio of high velocity missiles. One of the Krogan attempted to take a swipe at Black Eight while he flew by, only to miss and catch a stream of rounds in the face.

"NO! THE CHIEFTAIN!" the Krogan cried out, before Sitora finished him off with one last shot.

* * *

Wreav was still standing before the statue of Kaliga, his hands placed palm down on the alter, his head bowed as prayed silently to the Great Mother. Then the Turians came. Their arrival was noisy, and disrupted his prayer. They flew into the main chamber with their micro-jets, and landed at the bottom of the stairs leading to the alter.

"Turn and face me you son of a bitch!" One Turian, the leader likely, directed his demand towards Wreav while aiming his rifle at the Krogan's back.

Wreav ignored him and continued his prayer.

"I said turn!"

Wreav kept praying.

"Fuck it!," the Turian finally said. "Shoot the bastard!"

The Turian and his two comrades aimed their rifles at Wreav's back and fired. At the same time, the Krogan warlord finally whipped around and brought out an Omni-shield from his Omni-tool. The glowing slab of flash forged silicon-carbide easily soaked up the storm of accelerator rounds. With a roar, Wreav leaped down from the altar and reached back to grab the haft of his Thunder Hammer.

One of the Turians tried to shout out a warning. "Move out of the-!"

Wreav brought the head of his hammer crashing down on the stone floor, triggering the weapon's kinetic generators, sending out a shockwave that shattered the thick stone tile and blew the Turians off their feet. The lead Turian recovered midair, activating his armor's micro-jets to stop his fall and fly up beyond Wreav's reach. But Wreav quickly forced the Turian to flee by breaking his shields with just three shots from his Executioner pistol.

The Turian flew behind a column, out of sight. Then Wreav turned his attention to the other two Turians.

"You violate the sanctity of this temple with your filthy presence!" One of the two Turians had just gotten to his feet, when Wreav suddenly took him in the side of the head with a swing. There was an unbearably satisfying and loud crack, as the Turian's armor shattered, and his head popped like an overripe fruit.

The Turian's comrade was quicker and managed to put a burst of gunfire into Wreav's armored backside, before the Chieftain activated his Omni-shield again. Desperate, the Turian tapped an Omni-panel on his weapon, changing the rifle into a shotgun.

"Incendiary!" Red holographic glyphs appeared on the shotgun's barrel. The Turian pumped several shots into Wreav's Omn-shield, but he barely even slowed. The Chieftain swung out with his shield arm, bashing the Turian onto the ground. Just as Wreav prepared to finish him off, he felt a painful sting drill into his back, and he heard the sound of his kinetic barrier's failing.

The other Turian, the leader, had returned. Wreav fired his Executioner pistol again, but the Turian easily evaded the shots then returned fire. Several more rounds took Wreav in the shoulder, but he shrugged it off. Once again he activated his Omni-tool, but this time instead of a shield appearing, his tool forged a long chain with an adhesive head at its end.

The chain caught the Turian around his ankle. Thinking quickly, the Blackwatch operative set his micro-jets to full power. Blue tongues of flame exploded out from his back, elbows, and calves. But Wreav in his armor weight nearly 3 tons, and did not budge an inch for the Turian. With a powerful roll of his shoulders, the Chieftain yanked on the chain and slammed the Turian into a nearby column, dazing him. Wreav yanked again, this time with enough strength to overpower the Turian's micro-jets, and smash the Blackwatch operative into the floor.

"Pathetic toys," Wreav spat.

The other Turian, the one the Chieftain had struck with a shield bash, was starting to regain his senses. Wreav put a quick end to that with a clean head shot from his Executioner pistol.

Purposefully the Krogan strode to the last survivor of the trio. The Turian groaned, saw Wreav approaching, and brought up his rifle. But Wreav smashed it out aside with a swing of his hammer, then knocked the Turian down with the back swing, cracking the armor's chest plate.

Outside in the nave, Wrea could hear his bodyguards still fighting with the Turian's other comrades. He looked down at the alien at his feet, struggling to get away.

"Raptor Lead," the Turian coughed out. "Sister, we need-"

With a smirk, Wreav reached down and clamped his hand around the Turian's neck, cutting off anything else the alien might have said.

* * *

The last of the bodyguards finally died when Sitora took a snapshot with her Kester-17 in sniper configuration, blowing the Krogan's brains all over the wall.

"Raptor 2? Cairus? I didn't catch the rest of that. Did you find the target?" asked Sitora.

No response. Her blood ran cold.

"Raptors! Move in!" she ordered as her Kester switched to shotgun configuration.

The five Blackwatch commandos filed into the main hall in perfect formation, with Sitora herself in the lead. They didn't have to go very far before they spotted Raptor 2, and their target.

Wreav had Cairus up by the neck. Her brother furiously kicked out his feet and lashed out with his talons, but the Krogan seemed more amused by his efforts than anything. Not far from the two struggling aliens, Sitora saw the bodies of Raptor 8 and 12. Cold hatred welled up within her. Silently, she signaled for what remained of her team to spread out and surround Wreav.

"More Turians," the Krogan rumbled. "Excellent, I shall have many offerings for Kaliga before the day is over."

"PUT HIM DOWN!" Sitora ordered. But over the team's private channel she asked, "who's got a clear shot?"

She received five negatives. The Chieftain had positioned himself well, with a wall to his back and clear sight lines in every direction. Her team couldn't move any further without tipping the Krogan off to their plan.

"S-Sitora!" Cairus weakly choked out.

"Brother I'm here!" she called out to him.

"I'm...I'm sorry!" Wreav squeezed and snapped Carius's neck.

Sitora screamed.

Wreav hurled her brother's body at her and she jumped to catch it, activating her armor's micro-jets to give her a boost.

"Open fire!" Raptor 3 shouted, but she barely heard him. Gently cradling Cairus in her arms, Sitora hovered down to the floor and carefully laid him down.

Wreav bellowed at the Turians and charged, his Omni-shield held out in front. Two of the Blackwatch commandos activated their flight systems and took to the air, while the other two continued to engage Wreav on the ground in an attempt to split his attentions. Unfortunately for the commandos, Wreav like all Krogan found his greatest focus in the chaos of battle.

With speed that belied his immense bulk, Wreav closed the distance between himself and Raptor 10 in just a few strides. Raptor 10, realizing the danger, tried to activate his flight system, but was too late. Wreav lifted his hammer above his head, and brought it crashing down on top of Raptor 10, completely caving in the Turian's breastplate. The Krogan then turned to Sitora, the only commando still on the ground, still cradling her brother's body.

"Hey ugly!" Raptor 9 fired her Kester-17 into Wreav's back, shattering his kinetic barrier. Several rounds penetrated his thick armor, but they might as well have been bee stings. The sniper round from Raptor 3 however, was not. A large chunk of Wreav's left thigh suddenly disappeared and he fell down to one knee.

Raptor 3 fired off another shot, only for Wreav to block it with his Omni-shield. But then Raptor 4 maneuvered himself behind the Krogan and put a burst from his assault rifle into Wreav's unprotected shoulder. With guttural growl, Wreav suddenly hurled his hammer. The weapon flew end over end toward Raptor 4. The commando executed an evasive roll but the hammer still managed to clip him in the shoulder, throwing him off balance.

Wreav capitalized on Raptor 4's momentary imbalance, firing his Omni-grapple, catching the Turian commando around the ankle, and then yanking him onto the ground. Raptor 4 was barely able to get up, when Wreav brought his foot down on the Turian's windpipe, crushing it.

"PUNY TURIANS! BRING ME A CHALLENGE!"

Suddenly a single shot echoed throughout the temple, and Wreav felt pain lance through his side. He still had enough strength to swivel around and see Sitora, her Kester in shotgun configuration. Her eyes were full of cold anger and a desire for revenge. She let Wreav realize his error in turning his back on her, before pumping three more shots into him.

Wreav's armor saved him from death, but not from the burning pain. He smelled scorched flesh, then realized it was his own. The Turian bitch was using incendiary rounds! Quickly he pulled out his Executioner pistol, only for it and the hand holding it to be blown away by another shot from Sitora. Wreav activated his Omni-tool, but before he could make a shield, Sitora shot that hand as well.

The Warlord of Tuchanka fell to his knees.

The fight was over.

Purposefully, Sitora walked right up to the Krogan and put the barrel of her weapon against his crest.

"Your rebellion is at an end," she said. Her finger hovered over the trigger of her weapon. "This is for all the Turians you've murdered today."

Unexpectedly Wreav burst into laughter, causing her to pause. "Do you really think that my death will end all of this? Do you really think that you can stop all of it now, with the simple pull of a trigger? No, no this cannot be stopped. My people have tasted the blood of their most hated enemies now, they'll never stop now. It's just as _they_ said it would be."

"They? They who?" demanded Sitora.

Wreav laughed again. "You don't even know who you're really fighting. You don't realize the power _they_ hold. Even if you were to kill every Krogan in the galaxy, _they_ will still come, and _they_ will carve a their way to Palevan!"

"WHO?! WHO ARE THEY?!"

Wreav smiled. "Take me prisoner. Let me live. And I will tell you all I know."

Sitora sneers. "No deal. You have to die."

"Hold on Raptor Lead." Raptor 3 landed next to Sitora, along with Raptor 9. "Maybe we shouldn't kill him. Maybe he'll be more valuable as a prisoner."

"What?! Are you serious? Our orders are to eliminate him!" Sitora reminded vehemently, her weapon never moving from its place on Wreav's forehead.

"That was before we discovered personal energy weapons, and before this became a new first contact scenario. The parameters have changed," Raptor 3 pointed out. "The Hierarchy needs all the information it can get on what we're dealing with here. We need to keep the big picture in mind here."

"NO! He has to pay!" she insisted. "He has to pay for every Turian who died today because of him!"

"Raptor Lead, with respect I don't think you're thinking clearly."

"What did you say Raptor 3?"

"Ma'am, I believe you're emotionally compromised and unable to make proper judgements. I understand that Raptor 2 was your brother but-"

"Don't you dare use that against me Raptor 3! This isn't just about my brother! This is about the entire legion! This is about..."

As the Turians continued to argue with one another, Wreav smiled. Slowly but surely he could feel the pain fade away from his injuries. Though all Krogan healed wounds quickly, Wreav had been blessed by Great Mother Kaliga with an especially quick regeneration speed. Once he had lost a whole arm to a Thresher Maw, and regrown the whole limb in less than half an hour. As long as he still had fat store in his hump, he could recover from nearly any non-mortal injury.

The incendiary rounds that the Turian bitch in charge had slowed his recovery somewhat, but not by much. Already his leg and shoulder were usable, and the pain in his chest was more of a sting than true pain. If the idiot Turians had been paying attention, they might have notice that his hump had shrunk significantly.

Their negligence would be their undoing.

Without warning Wreav took a hold of Sitora's shotgun by the barrel and ripped the weapon out of her hands, then hurled it far away. He then lunged for the Turian herself, but her reflexes were well honed from years of training. The minute he'd taken a hold of her weapon, she'd activated her Omni-Blade. As the Krogan closed in, she buried the entire length of the blade into his chest.

Wreav barely seemed to notice the foot long blade, and proceeded to grab Sitora into a choke hold, holding her out in front of him as a shield.

"Shit!" Raptor 9 cursed.

"Let her go!" Raptor 3 demanded. "Release her, and we'll take you alive!"

Wreav snorted in disgust and amusement. They thought that they were in a position of power, but they couldn't be farther from the truth. First he'd snap this Turian bitch's neck, and then kill the other two with his bare hands.

But Sitora had other ideas.

"Die with me you son of a bitch!" Her armor began to beep, as it's Afterlife implants activated. In 30 seconds, the explosives hidden in her armor would go off, killing her and everything around her in a three meter radius. Wreav quickly realized the Turian's plan and tossed his living shield away, causing her to collide with the one called Raptor 3.

Raptor 9 raised his rifle and fired a steady stream into Wreav's chest. With his armor damaged, the breastplate did little to protect, but Wreav didn't care, he barely felt the rounds tearing through his flesh. All he saw now was the enemy in front of him, all he felt was the desire to _kill_. His hands grabbed hold of the Turian by the shoulders, and then his crest collided with the Turian's head. Even with a helmet on Raptor 9 was left dazed, and Wreav did not relent. He delivered another head-butt, then another, and another, until finally the helmet cracked apart, and Raptor 9 went limp.

"NO!" Sitora suddenly hurled herself at Wreav and latched onto his back. She had deactivated her Afterlife implants, and now brandished her Omni-blade, and viciously began to stab the Krogan in the hump. "You'll pay you monster!"

"Raptor Lead! Get out of the way!" Raptor 3 was tracking the two with his rifle, but with his team leader in the way he couldn't find a clear shot. Abandoning his search for a clean shot, Raptor 3 activated his flight systems and flew straight at the struggling Krogan and Turian shoulder first, hoping to knock both of them to the ground.

But Wreav saw it coming. Ignoring the screeching Turian on his back, he threw out an armored fist and clotheslined Raptor 3. There was an audible crack, as force of Wreav's strength and the Turian's momentum combined to snap something inside of Raptor 3. Whatever it was, the pain caused him to faint, and he crashed into the floor and tumbled into a wall.

Sitora didn't even seem to notice that the last of her team was down, as she continued to savagely stab Wreav.

"GET! OFF!" Wreav reached up and hurled Sitora off, she went flying into a pillar. She did not move after that, but a pained groan told Wreav that she was still alive.

Breathlessly, and with a notable sluggish gait, Wreav retrieved his hammer, and moved to stand over Sitora's broken body. By the time he reached her, Sitora had managed sit up with her back against the pillar. When Wreav arrived, she bared her sharp teeth and stared defiantly into the Krogan's eyes, she would not cower before him.

"Your comrade was a fool to think that I would ever surrender to your ilk."

"Hmph, we can agree on that," Sitora said. "But he's gone now. It's just you and me, and you still need to pay."

"For what? A few thousand Turian deaths? That is hardly comparable to the generations my people have lost to your Genophage."

"Their blood is on your hands Urdnot! You Krogan forced us to use the Genophage! Just like you forced us to come down on you this time! If anyone is to blame for the plague on your people, or the fighting here, it's you! You and all the other Krogan! And now you have even more Turian blood to pay for on top of that!"

Wreav paused momentarily before speaking again. "You speak the truth. The blood of my people is on my hands. Because I was too weak to find the answer. Because I did not search hard enough for salvation. But you..." he fixed Sitora with a harsh glare. "...how dare you try and excuse yourself from your own crimes."

Wreav took a step towards Sitora.

 **"** The Salarians may have forged the blade, but it was your kind who used it to neuter us. Because of your people, I had to watch the future of my race die. I had watch mothers crack open their own eggs in hopes of giving their unborn children a fleeting chance of survival, only to see them melt. I had to witness the moment, when my entire race decided to simply give up." Wreav hefted his hammer up, and glared down at the Turian. "And you say that we can blame no on but our selves?! WRETCHED SCUM! My hatred for your people burns hotter than the sun! I am the VENGEANCE of the Krogan people personified! I am RETRIBUTION for the generations that have been lost! I am JUSTICE itself, unleashed by the crimes of the Citadel!" Wreav took a breath and lowered his voice to a dangerous growl. "Go to your afterlife Turian, and know that soon your entire race will soon join you."

Surprisingly, Sitora's response was to snort. "For the record. We Turians have plenty of reasons to be pissed off too."

The Blackwatch commando activated her Omni-tool. Wreav, expecting her to fire a weapon of some sort, began to step backwards. But then he heard a high pitched beeping coming from behind. The tech-mine that Sitora had placed on his hump while she'd been latched onto his back, detonated.

Wreav bellowed in pain and collapsed to the floor in a burning bloodied heap.

But he wasn't dead just yet, and even if he was, Sitora had to make sure.

Painfully and slowly, she rose to her feet, using the pillar she'd been sitting against as support. She detached her pistol from the magnetic strip on her thigh, and aimed it down at Wreav. A single shot to the head was all it would take.

She would avenge her comrades, her team, and her brother.

"For the Hierarchy," she whispered.

Her finger began to pull the trigger. Then a glowing red blade exploded out from her chest.

* * *

It had been pure luck that she'd found the Krogan warlord just in time. Or was it fate? Had the Force guided her to this moment? Did destiny dictate that Udrnot Wreav would live? Had fate chosen that the Turian die by her blade?

Lord Vyzaan had entered the Temple of Kaliga on a mere whim, and had arrived just in time to save the Warlord of Tuchanka. She hadn't felt the Force urge her to be in this exact spot, at this exact moment. But here she was.

The Turian's body slipped off of her blade and fell to the floor with a loud _thump_. As she deactivated her lightsaber and replaced it on her belt, Lord Vyzaan moved towards Urdnot Wreav's unmoving body. Cautiously she held out her hand and reached out with the Force. His wound's were severe, more than even a Krogan should be able to endure. But to Vyzaan's surprise, and relief, she felt the barest amounts of life residing with Urdnot Wreav. By some miracle, the Krogan had yet to become one with the Force.

As she pulled her hand back, Vyzaan heard the squad of Imperial troopers she had come to the temple with entering into the main hall.

"Medic!" she barked. One of the troopers sprinted over to her, and she pointed at Wreav. "Stabilize him immediately! If this Krogan dies, The Wrath himself will see to your execution!"

Even with a helmet on, Vyzaan could see the trooper blanch. "Y-yes my lord! Don't worry! I won't fail!"

You had better not, Vyzaan thought as she left the medic to his work. "Someone call an evac shuttle right now! We must bring this Krogan to a medical facility!"

"Yes my lord!" one of the trooper said.

Vyzaan hoped that whatever luck the Force had granted her would continue to hold. She was not privy to the plans of the Emperor and his Wrath. But she knew that Urdnot Wreav and the Krogan people were somehow important to those plans. This battle had been fought for their benefit. If Urdnot Wreav died, everything that had happened today would be for nothing.

Vyzaan didn't want to be the one to take the blame for that.

* * *

 **At the Shroud...**

General Vakarian walked among his men and felt the full weight of his failure settle in on him. The retreat had, by most standards, been a successful one. Or at least, been as successful as one could have hoped for given the circumstances. The 141st Legion had performed a text book fighting withdrawal over three dozen miles of land, all the way back to the Shroud. The whole way they had been hounded by the Krogan and their mysterious new allies.

In the end, the 141st had only escaped pursuit because the area around the Shroud was heavily infested with thresher maw, and then the 141st had found a whole new problem to deal with. Most of the casualties sustained had been from fighting, but from a quick scan of the reports, they'd lost more than a few squads of soldiers and vehicles to the maws.

To his right, Castius saw several soldiers being treated for burn wounds, no doubt a result of the acidic projectiles thresher maws were known to upchuck at prey. But there were also plenty of other wounded that had not been a result of the creatures. To his left, Castius saw two medics trying to hold down a soldier who'd lost both his left arm and leg. They were trying to drag him to one of the many hospital tents that had been set up, but he was mad with pain.

"A fucking glowing sword! How!? WHY!?" the soldier demanded out loud.

Against his better judgement, Castius walked into the nearest hospital tent. Immediately he was greeted with the stench of blood, piss, shit, and death. It was a typical smell for a place filled with the injured, dying, and dead. But the sheer strength of it rocked Castius on his feet.

"I'm out of painkiller! Whose got more!?" a medic asked.

"We're all out! I think one of the other tents has some," someone else replied over the screams.

Six rows, each with four operating tables, had been setup in the tent. The medics were working tirelessly to treat the injured, even so Castius saw at least a dozen soldiers sitting on the side of the tent, waiting for treatment. As he approached them, a few noticed. Weakly some of them tried to stand up and salute.

"Officer on deck," one of the soldiers, a sergeant, announced hoarsely.

"At ease soldiers," Castius quickly said. He was not a Turian prone to emotional outbursts. But the sight of his wounded men still trying to uphold protocol was almost too much for him.

"Thank you sir," they all returned to sitting down.

"How are you boys and girls fairing?"

"We're fine sir," said one of the soldiers, a female. She had a bandage over her left eye, and her right hand had been wrapped in a cast.

"Yeah," said the soldier next to her, a young male. "Once the doctors have us patched up, we'll be back to fighting shape in no time." Castius noted that the young soldier had been slathered in burn gel.

"How'd that happen soldier?" he asked, gesturing to the wounds.

The young soldier hesitated.

"General asked you a questions corporal," said the sergeant from earlier.

"Yes sir. It's just...I'm not sure you'll believe me sir."

"Try me."

"Well sir, my squad was wiped out by...lightning."

"Lightning?"

"Yes sir. One of the enemy shot lightning from their hands." Castius pocketed this information away for later. Likely this was some sort of weapon, he'd heard of Quarians using weapons that could produce similar results against the Geth. Maybe the Krogan's allies had done similar, but shrunk the technology down to something handheld?

"I see, and you?" he asked the soldier next to him, an older male whose leg was missing.

"Leg got chopped off by a sword sir."

"A sword?"

"Yes sir. But not any sword you'd have ever seen before. It sort of...glowed. Like, it was made of energy or something. Whatever it was, it took my leg clean off. Armor didn't help at all."

"Hey! I saw one of those too! Jilka's squad got chopped to pieces by one of those guys with the glowing swords!" The speaker was another soldier.

"I saw one of them use it to cut open a tank." Everyone turned to look at the soldier who had spoken. He was holding an ice pack to his head, likely for a concussion.

"That's...that's impossible," said the first soldier.

The soldier jumped to his feet. "I'm telling you! That's what I saw! It was...it was...like nothing I'd ever seen before. Then the same guy who cut the tank apart, he used some sort of invisible biotics to crush my squad's armored transport!" He turned to Castius. "I'm telling the truth sir! Honest!"

Castius placed comforting hand on the soldier and gestured for him to sit back down. "We'll look into your story son. But for now, focus on recovering. That's an order for all of you."

"Yes sir," they all responded with varying degrees of energy.

As Castius left the tent, he couldn't help but wonder about the stories the soldier had told him. He hadn't been on the ground and it would have been easy to dismiss them as simply the result of battlefield trauma. But he'd looked them in the eyes and had seen the sincerity behind their words. That soldier really had seen one of the enemy cut a tank apart with a glowing sword, shoot lightning, and then crush an armored transport with 'invisible' biotics, or at the very least, he believed that he'd seen.

Castius genuinely hoped that this would all be explained away in the days to come.

Finally, the general found who he was out searching for.

"Major Sancas."

"General Vakarian," the commander of the 141st Legion's artillery wearily stood up from his seat on the ground to salute.

"At ease Major, you did good work covering our infantry."

Sancas snorted with disgust. "There's no need to lie sir." The major took a quick look around. "Is this...is this all that's left?"

Castius felt his chest clench at the question. He'd been avoiding answering the question himself for hours. "We're still counting but...it looks like less than 4,000 made it back alive."

"Spirits," Sancas placed his hands ontop of his head, as though trying to stop his own head from bursting from the revelation. "Less than a sixth of our original numbers."

"It gets worse."

"I don't see how that's possible sir."

"We've lost contact with Admiral Regirus, and the 9th Fleet."

"...oh."

"We can't be absolutely sure but all evidence so far says that they're gone."

"All of them?"

"All of them."

Sancas fell back into his seat on the ground. "This can't be happening."

"I keep hoping that as well," Castius admitted.

* * *

 **Aboard the _Kilran's Revenge..._**

The entire way back to the _Kilran's Revenge_ , Pierce had seated himself in the _Joining Tides_ copilot seat, and allowed himself to ride the waves of cooling post-mission adrenaline. There was no feeling in the galaxy that could match the feeling Pierce got from completing a mission. Just knowing that he had pitted his wits and skills against insurmountable odds, and that in the end he had come out of it alive and on top, gave him a sort of bliss that no narcotic or alcohol could ever replicate.

Upon landing in the hangar bay however, Pierce found himself confronted with the worst part of doing a live capture mission: escort duty.

The Citadel ambassadors had been stunned and shoved in a utility closet for the trip back. Needless to say, when they had woken up they were ornery and unappreciative of their circumstances.

"Unhand me!" shrieked the Asari as Shadow 8 led her down the _Joining Tide's_ landing ramp. The alien pulled furiously against the commando's grip, but it was all in vain. In addition to the stun cuffs that all the ambassadors wore on their wrists, the Asari had been fitted with a collar that had been specially designed to dampen her species natural Biotic abilities by disrupting the electrical field of their bodies. It was good for keeping Biotics in check, but tended to cause prisoners to have wobbly legs, thus the Asari literally needed someone's hand to hold. "Don't you know who I am!? How dare you treat me like this! I am an Ambassador of the Citadel and a member of House Irissa! I demand you release me at once!"

"Sir, permission to stun this schutta?" Shadow 8 pleaded.

"Permission denied. Orders are to leave them unharmed."

"Her voice hurts my ears."

"Deal with it," Pierce growled, then turned away to show the conversation was over.

The rest of the ambassadors were much more subdued, and followed their captors willingly. From the hangar Shadow Team escorted the prisoners to Detention Block A-23, where Pierce handed them over to Lieutenant Chilom, a male Chagrian with a broken top left horn.

"We'll handle it from here sir," Chilom said, and gestured for his men to take the prisoners.

"Welcome to it, I hate escort duty."

"You'll never get away with this!" the Salarian ambassador suddenly said. "We are ambassadors on a diplomatic mission! If you hold us against our will, the Citadel will come looking. They'll send the full might of their fleets and Spectres after all of you!"

Pierce smiled as the Salarian's guard shoved the alien into a cell.

"That's just what we're hoping for," said Pierce.

* * *

 **Aboard the _Eternal Warden..._**

When he had received a transmission from Lord Vyzaan had located and rescued Wreav, The Wrath had immediately ordered a shuttle to bring the Krogan warlord aboard the _Eternal Warden,_ and sent to the infirmary to be treated.

Now the still form of Urdnot Wreav floated before him in a large transparent tank of kolto. A mask feeding him oxygen had been placed over his muzzle, allowing the Krogan to breathe while the blueish liquid healed him. The wounds that he had sustained against the Turian Blackwatch were grievous.

 **"Will he live?"** The Wrath asked.

"His constitution is impressive, even for a Krogan," said Chief Medical Officer De'stro, the head of the _Eternal Warden's_ medical unit. A middle aged Human man with a pronounced ears, he had served on the _Eternal Warden_ longer than any other crew member. He also had a tendency, The Wrath had quickly learned, to ramble. "And his regenerative abilities are far above the usual for a member of his species. Simply put, it's FANTASTIC! He could give a Gen'Dai a good run for its credits. But even so, the damage was severe. His rib cage was all but shattered, his spine severed in several places, there was severe tissue loss and damage. Honestly my lord, it's amazing that-"

 **"Will he live?"** The Wrath asked again, more firmly this time.

"Yes my lord, but just barely. It's too early to tell, but we may need to perform surgery and fit him for cybernetics if he is to recover all his functions," answered De'stro.

 **"You have my permission to do whatever is necessary. But he must live, and he must be fit enough to resume his role."**

"As you wish my lord."

The Wrath left De'stro to his work. As he exited the med-bay, he received a call on his communicator. Captain VanGellis's wrinkled features, hued by the holographic blue, appeared in his palm.

 _"My lord, we have a priority transmission from the Emperor."_

The Wrath briefly stopped in his tracks, before resuming his brisk pace. **"Understood, direct it to my private holo-terminal in my personal chambers."**

 _"Yes my lord."_

* * *

The walk to his personal quarters aboard the _Eternal Warden_ was entirely too short, but The Wrath used it as best he could to think on what he was going to say to his master. By the time he had decided, he had reached his private holo-terminal. A red blinking light on the console indicated an incoming transmission.

The Wrath entered in a set of commands.

The lights in the room dimmed, and he fell onto one knee.

A ghostly blue glow filled the room as the form of Emperor Revan appeared above the holo-terminal. Upon seeing his master, The Wrath respectfully lowered his head.

"My master."

 _"Wrath,"_ Revan folded his hands behind his back and fixed his servant with a heavy stare. _"General Quinn would not tell me the reason you wanted to talk. But think I can guess, the Turian's forces have been vanquished?"_

"Yes my master."

 _"Very good, that is excellent news. And yet, I sense there is something...more that you wish to tell me."_

"Yes my master. I'm sorry, I have failed you."

* * *

 **Meanwhile...**

 **Serpent Nebula, Widow System...**

Trey pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Are you alright?" Theran Cedrax, who sat next to him from the pilot's seat. "You look a touch pale my friend."

 _"Did you eat something that disagreed with you?"_ asked Holiday, Theran's sentient holographic assistant and companion. _"Perhaps it was those bantha steaks? They have been sitting in the freezer for quite some time, and they did look a little strange."_

"No, it's nothing like that," Trey assured them. "I just...I felt a disturbance in the Force. It was like...thousands of voices. I think that much blood has been shed this day."

"Hmm, well perhaps it's simply the ship's air. I've been meaning to replace the filtration unit, blasted thing is older than a Gree painting."

The door to the cockpit slide open. Without turning, Trey greeted the new arrival. "Iris, you're just on time. We've arrived."

Iris smiled and sat herself down in one of the free seats. "So that's the Citadel...it's smaller than I thought it would be." She turned to Trey. "You still sure we're doing the right thing here?"

Trey nodded. "It is time for the Jedi, to return."

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **FUCKING FINALLY! I had no idea this chapter or this arc would take this long! Jesus Christmas! Okay, I know we've all had fun watching thousands and thousands of Turians die horrible deaths, but it's time to move on to new pastures.**

 **The next chapter we'll get back to Shepard and team to see how they respond to the news and what they do about it.**

 **Also yes, the Jedi finally made an appearance again. I know that it's fairly short, and you're all probably wondering: "who the heck is this Iris chick?" Well all I'll say is that she's important for later chapters.**

 **For those of you wanting more Revan, don't worry. In the future there will be an entire chapter dedicated to Revan doing something. So just wait for that one.**

 **It'll be good times.**

 **That's all for now. Remember to leave me a review telling me what you thought! I enjoy reading your feed back!**

 **Bye!**


	18. Chapter 12: Identity Verification

**Star Wars is owned by Lucas Arts Ltd and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **hunter 139 -** We'll get to Cerberus eventually, I've got plans for them. **  
** **Kaioo -** Don't worry, some Jedi will be like that but some won't as well. **  
MEleeSmasher -** It does seem to be a consistent theme with them huh? That's why I always prefer the Sith way. **  
FerunaLutelou -** Thank yoooooou! **  
RabidArmenian -** We'll learn more about the Empire eventually, for now I'm keeping them as sort of a mysterious entity. **  
Tdritzman -** If I could devote entire days to writing chapters I would. Unfortunately I, like all writers, suffer from an inability to keep our attention spans focused on a single thing. **  
mteran305 -** Thank you!  
 **deadtrooper -** You'll just have to keep reading to find out the end. **  
AlextheSouthParkGhostRider -** Ohohoho, what they have in store for those ambassadors, it's gonna be good! **  
Harlequin-ThePsychoticAntiHero -** Kratos is basically a Krogan in Human form **  
Ritzel -** That's kind of the feeling that I'm going for. To the Citadel, the Sith Empire is the strange dark force that came out of nowhere. **  
Old one Griffin -** We'll get to the culture shock/exposition dump from the Jedi eventually, first whole bunch of things have to happen first. **  
Guest2 -** Yeah, I honestly didn't expect this arc to go as long as it did. It was supposed to end like one chapter ago, but I just had so much stuff I needed to get out. **  
Guest -** He will, don't worry. **  
Hatewardj -** The Silencer in this story won't quite be as much of a Fleet Killer as most people seem to think it is. In SWTOR the Silencer took out 5 ships in one shot, which is the number I'll be basing its firepower off in my story. **  
TheHungryWolf -** Thanks! **  
Bloodwolf432 -** Well sorry to hear that chapter turned you off to my story. But If I'd really wanted a true curb stomping, I think they'd all be dead. Plus it's not like they never got a shot off or anything, they all had their chances to fight back. It's just that none of it was good enough.

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 12 – Identity Verification**

* * *

 ** _The Citadel, The Presidium, C-SEC HQ_**

"You're wasting your time. It'd be much wiser to just kill me now," the Tyco said.

"Very tempting. Unfortunately for you. I'm a loose cop who doesn't like to play by the rules and prefers to go against common sense," said Garrus. He placed both his hands on the table in between them and leaned forward. "How about we try this again. Who do you work for?"

"Myself," the man said.

"Right, why don't you tell me about the laser guns." Garrus placed the man's sidearm on the table. The man was cuffed and strapped to the chair in several places, so the Turian wasn't too worried about him making a grab for the weapon. "It's a pretty fancy piece of technology."

"Not really," Tyco grumbled, "it's an older model."

"Of course it is. I guess you must come from a nicer part of the galaxy, all the way from the future."

The man in the chair snorted.

"Okay, so not from the future. Good to know," said Garrus. "Still, I've never seen tech like this before in my life. As far as I know, handheld direct energy weapons are just theory. Not a single species in the galaxy is even close to solving the ridiculous amount of problems that come with making one. Yet I'm holding one right here between my talons. Maybe you can tell me where it came from."

"A magical woman in a puddle gave it to me," Tyco responded.

"She give one to all your friends too? She have a store in this puddle of hers?"

"Yeah, it's on Palevan. I wouldn't go though, pretty soon that whole planet is going to be ash and dust."

Garrus flinched and his mandibles flickered to express anger. "You better watch yourself. I can tear through rock with this new hand of mine." The gears in Garrus's mechanical hand whirred as he flexed his digits. "You can imagine what will happen if I use it on something a little more...squishy."

"Very intimidating," said the Human, clearly not even a little bit intimidated, "it's like being threatened by a baby nuna. Why don't you go back to your mother's nest, have her sit on you."

"You watch what you say about my mother!" Garrus lunged at the man, only to be stopped by an elegant blue hand.

"Remain calm Garrus," said Samara, "it would be to his benefit to die, not ours." Garrus wisely stepped back and allowed the Justicar to take the reigns of the interrogation. "Perhaps we should return to speaking about the weapon. My associate was correct in saying that energy weapons this small are a thing of myth in the galaxy. But you and your men seem to have solved what the greatest minds of our galaxy could not, or at the very least, you know someone who did and they are now supplying you."

"If you say so," said Tyco.

"I will ask you once more. Where did this weapon come from?"

"And I already told you, from a puddle on Palevan."

"You should start being more cooperative," Garrus warned. "I'm the good cop here. Samara here, she'll make you feel pain you didn't think was possible."

Samara's beautiful form began to glow blue with Biotic power. "Garrus speaks the truth. I am well versed in various interrogation methods, and I've had many centuries to practice."

"Oh great, now it's like being threatened by a baby nuna and a dancer in a club. Do you really think you two can scare me?" asked Tyco. "You don't even know what real fear is. I've seen the scariest things in the universe with my own two eyes. So you can go ahead and do whatever you want to try and get me to talk, I won't, I never well. Not because I've been trained, but because I know that anything you do to me, they'll do so much worse if they find out I talked. And trust me, they will know." He looked directly at the one way window of the interrogation room.

"They know, everything."

* * *

It was impossible for Tyco to know that Shepard was on the other side of the window. It was tinted so that the only thing Tyco would be able to see when looking at the window was his own reflection. Still, Shepard felt an itch on the back of his head when he'd listened to Tyco's words, like the man was telling him specifically.

"Where the hell did you find this guy?" asked Bailey, the older C-Sec officer looked thoroughly confused by all of this.

"In the Terminus," Shepard replied. He touched a finger to his ear piece and spoke. "Samara, Garrus, that's enough for now. Let's let him stew for a bit."

The two didn't so much as nod to acknowledge his orders, but began to step towards the door.

"We're gonna give you some time to think about your priorities Tyco. Remember, we're the ones that are here, not whoever it is you're scared of. When we come back, you better be ready to talk," said Garrus. The Turian and Justicar took the laser pistol and exited the interrogation room.

They soon joined Shepard and Bailey in the observation room.

"Well that could have gone better," said Garrus.

"That's putting it mildly," agreed Shepard. "We have nothing. Hell, I'd say that we've got even more questions than before we captured this asshole."

"His ability to resist interrogation is impressive. He has been able evade giving away any sort of information. Clearly he has been trained well," added Samara. "Commander, have you given thought to employing more brutal methods for extracting information?"

"You mean torture?"

"Yes," Samara answered without batting an eye.

Shepard hesitated. "I'd rather not."

"We may not have a choice," the Justicar pointed out.

"Samara is right," said Garrus. "I've met scum like Tyco, back on Omega I couldn't stop meeting them. Their kind only respond to one thing, violence. If we make good on our promise to Tyco and break a few bones, we might finally get the answers that we're looking for."

Shepard took in a deep breath and looked at Tyco through the one way window. Maybe Garrus and Samara were right. Maybe they should resort to torture, it's not like Shepard hadn't employed the tactic before. And after what had happened to Miranda, he wouldn't mind taking out his frustrations on Tyco, or Cipher Nine once they caught him too.

"Not to butt in..." said Bailey, "but if you're going to start cracking eggs, I'd prefer it if you didn't do it in C-Sec. We're still bound by certain rules here, and I'd really like to keep my job."

"No one is doing anything yet," said Shepard. He turned to Garrus and Samara. "You two are right, it's clear that we're not going to get Tyco to talk with good cop bad cop tactics. We need to up our game, I don't know if that means torture, but it's on the table."

They both nodded. Shepard turned to Bailey.

"I need to make my report to the Council about this, and I'll contact the Spectre offices about transferring the prisoner to one of their holding cells, then you won't have to worry about getting fired for unnecessary brutality."

Bailey nodded appreciatively. "Thank you Commander."

"We'll need a C-Sec escort for when we transfer him to the Spectre offices. For now though we'll keep Tyco in one of your cells."

"No problem, I've got a nice cozy cell for him in between a serial killer and an arsonist. They should get along nicely."

* * *

 **Aboard the _SSV Normandy SR2_...**

There were still a few more hours before his scheduled meet with the Council, and so Shepard chose to return to the _Normandy_ and catch a bit of rest. He entered his quarters, poured himself a drink, gulped it down, and flopped boneless onto his bed. He was tired, but sleep wouldn't come to him. Shepard couldn't shake the feeling that he needed to be doing something. Ever since Anderson had dropped the bomb about what had happened to the taskforce sent to Tuchanka, he'd felt constantly restless.

It wasn't just him either. Garrus had been working just as hard and Shepard was starting to fear that his Turian friend would push himself too far. But he held back from saying anything. Garrus's father had been the general in charge of the taskforce, and there had been no reports on any survivors as of yet. Shepard understood that there was plenty of tension between Garrus and his father, but that didn't mean Garrus wanted his father dead.

The only good news to come recently was that most of his team had recovered from the injuries they'd sustained thanks to Mordin's tireless care.

Tali had been the first to recover and was now making herself at home in the _Normandy's_ armory, working hard in trying to decipher the mystery of the energy weapons they had recovered from their mission on Kal-Riv. The young Quarian had at first been absolutely ecstatic to look into the new technology, but after a couple days she seemed to be growing more and more frustrated. Shepard made a mental note to check on her later.

Thane was back up as well and seemed happier. The Drell's hospital stay had given him a chance to be visited by his estranged son Kolyat. Apparently they'd done a lot of talking. Mordin said that Thane was healthy again, or as healthy as he could be with Kepral syndrome, but Shepard thought he noticed the Drell was just a tad more sluggish than usual, like his movements weren't as crisp or clean. Shepard hoped he was wrong, and that it was just his own perception playing tricks on him.

Until he was sure, he'd had Thane work with Zaeed in searching through their extensive combined list of underworld contacts, trying to find someone who might have useful information on the enemy.

But not every one was better yet. Wrex still had yet to awaken from his healing coma. Despite Mordin's assurances that the old Krogan would be fine, Shepard was getting more and more worried about him staying at the hospital. And now, Miranda was there as well. Like Wrex, Mordin had done all he could for the _Normandy's_ XO, but had been forced to put her on sedatives and perform surgery. She would live, which was a relief, but she'd be out of the game for some time.

For that reason he had Jack and Grunt stationed at the hospital as guards. They had grumbled about it, Jack not liking anywhere with needles, and Grunt not liking anywhere that didn't let him shoot whatever he wanted, but he'd been stern with them and they had begrudgingly followed his orders.

Shepard reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose.

He was so tired, but he couldn't will himself to sleep. He needed someone to talk to about all of this, someone with whom he could share his thoughts about all of this madness, someone like Ashley.

Ash.

Shepard clenched the sheets of his bed. He missed her.

He could still clearly remember the night they had spent together before the mission to Ilos. He remembered the touch of her skin against his, the taste of his lips on his tongue, and her scent filling his mind till their was nothing else. If there was one thing that Shepard truly despised about The Illusive Man's resurrection of the _Normandy_ , it was that they'd replaced everything about his old quarters.

Shepard appreciated the larger space, the luxury sofa, the soft bed, and the giant fish tank. But after Ilos and the Battle of the Citadel, Ashley had come back to his quarters more than once. They'd spent many nights together and after a while the room started to take on her scent.

This room smelled like nothing but air sterilizer.

The Illusive Man. It occurred to Shepard that he hadn't though about his former Cerberus patron for some time now. Their partnership hadn't ended on the best of terms after Shepard had destroyed the Collector's base. Would he know about what's going on? The man seemed to have a repository of information second only to the Shadow Broker. It could be worth giving him a call and seeing if he was willing to share.

Then again, it was also possible he was in on all of this.

Shepard let out a frustrated sigh. Normally he'd ask Miranda for an opinion about this, but he didn't want to disrupt her healing process.

"God damn it," he muttered quietly.

 _"Commander Shepard,_ _"_ EDI's soothing electronic voice spoke.

Shepard didn't open his eyes. "EDI, I thought told you not to disturb me till it was time for my meeting with the Council."

 _"That is correct Commander. You did. It is currently one hour before the designated time."_

Shepard cracked his eyes open with some effort. He looked at his electronic clock and saw that EDI was telling the truth. How had that much time passed already, he could have sworn he'd just put his head down, and he didn't feel rested at all. He sighed heavily and sat up.

"Thank you EDI. Prep a shuttle for me?"

 _"Of course Commander."_

Shepard rolled off of his bed and washed his face in the bathroom in an effort to look mildly presentable. Quickly he went over the pictures and camera footage he'd chosen to bring with him to the meeting, scarfed down an energy bar, and then moved toward the door. On his way, he paused briefly at his desk to look at the framed picture he had of Ashley.

The same empty pain he'd felt when she'd turned her back on him on Horizon returned. But soon it was replaced with memories of better times.

Maybe when he had a moment he'd give a call and see if she wanted to talk. No, not maybe. He definitely would give her a call.

Oddly enough, with that goal in mind, Shepard didn't feel so tired any more.

* * *

As EDI had promised, a shuttle was waiting for him in the _Normandy's_ hangar. Flight Officer Patel gave him a friendly smile as he approached

"Sir!" she saluted.

"At ease," Shepard activated his Omni-tool and sent a data package to Patel. "Here are the coordinates I need you to take me to."

"Sir? We're not going to the Citadel Tower?" she asked.

"No Patel, we are not."

They were not going to the Presidium Tower, the Council only conducted public business there. Instead they were going to the headquarters of the Spectres. Located on the opposite end of the Presidum from the Council Tower, Shepard had been to Spectre HQ or, the "Black Box" as it was known, only a few times in his life.

The first was when he'd become a Spectre, to receive his equipment and fill out paperwork. The second time was after he'd saved the Citadel and defeated Saren, he'd been invited to receive a Black Star, a medal only given to Spectres who achieved particularly noteworthy feats. The third time was after he'd come back from the dead and gotten his Spectre status reinstated by the Council.

The Black Box was so named because the building looked like, well, a giant black box. Which made it stand out like an ominous monolith amongst the otherwise shiny white of the rest of the Citadel. As if its color scheme wasn't enough to make the Black Box stand out, the whole complex was located in the middle of an artificial walled lake, on an artificial island. The island was accessible only two ways, a single bridge that connected the island to the mainland, and by air.

Attempting to land on the front door of the Black Box was ill-advised though. Shepard had once taken a tour of the Black Box's defensive measures, they were to say the least, incredibly impressive.

There were at least 20 GARDIAN anti-air towers that surrounded the whole island, strategically placed to have overlapping fields of fire, and manned by top of the line experimental military targeting VIs. Anything attacking the Black Box by air would be immediately disintegrated by no less than 3 GARDIAN lasers. If those didn't work, there were always the long range missile batteries located on the roof of the building.

Attempting to attack via the bridge was even less advisable. For one, the snipers in the guard towers at the end of the bridge, and the ones patrolling the roof of the building would easily pick off any approaching force. All guards for the Black Box were former special forces and were forced to go through a rigorous selection process. In additoin, the whole bridge was lined with auto-turrets every 10 meters. If somehow an attacker managed to get through all of that, they'd still have to contend with the guards in the compound, all of which totted military grade heavy armor and the best weapons available, some of which were technically illegal under Council law.

"Put us down in front of the bridge," Shepard ordered.

"Sir?"

"This shuttle isn't registered," he explained, "which means if we enter the Black Box's airspace we'll be shot down immediately."

"Ah...aye sir, putting down at the bridge," said Patel, her voice shaking just a tad. Shepard couldn't blame her.

As soon as they landed, the guards stationed at the mainland checkpoint rushed over, weapons raised. Shepard didn't so much as bat an eye as he stepped out of the Kodiak to the sight of assault rifles being pointed his way.

"Halt! This is a restricted area! Identify or be shot!" a Turian guard barked.

"I'm Commander Alan Shepard, Spectre, here to meet with the Council," Shepard replied.

"You'll need to submit to a blood and retinal test to ensure your identity," said the same guard.

Shepard nodded and held out a hand. The other guard, a Salarian, activated his Omni-tool and touched Shepard's finger with it. He felt a small prick as a minuscule amount of blood was taken. A positive chirp came from the guard's Omni-tool

"Please open your eye and hold still." Next the Salarian held his Omni-tool to Shepard's right eye. The scan happened quickly and the same positive chirp was heard again.

"It all checks out," the Salarian nodded.

"You may now give us your Spectre authorization code," said the Turian. Shepard activated his own Omni-tool and sent them his code. A moment later, both guards lowered their weapons.

"Apologies Spectre, we were under the impression that you were dead."

"I got better," Shepard replied.

"Yes sir. We'll call in your arrival. You may take your shuttle to one of the landing pads on the roof."

With the threat of a horrible and complete death gone, Patel landed the Kodiak on one of the several landing pads located on top of the Black Box. Shepard noted that she still looked a little bit nervous as the missile batteries tracked their approach, even though he'd assured her they would not fire.

"Wait here, don't leave the shuttle," he ordered her once they landed.

"Yes sir, don't need to tell me twice."

Several guards on the roof saluted Shepard as he passed them and he respectfully returned the favor. He then took the elevator to the 20th floor, which was located in the middle of the building. As Shepard exited the elevator, he noted the internal security measures.

If an attacker managed to get passed the AA towers, the missile batteries, the auto-turrets, and actually entered the Black Box itself, they were in for an even bigger world of hurt. In addition to the plethora of heavily armed guards patrolling the halls of the complex, there were also auto-turrets that could be lowered from the ceiling of each floor. He also noted the security cameras in each corner and the security mechs at the door of each room, all carrying automatic shotguns.

Shepard walked the halls, occasionally passing a fellow Spectre who would nod a silent greeting. To his own shame Shepard did not recognize all of them, but he could immediately tell that they were also Spectres by the way they walked. It was the kind of walk that one would see used by a member of elite special forces, a walk of pure confidence and constant vigilance, a walk that said 'I'm the deadliest son of a bitch in the room and I know it'.

The real danger of the Black Box wasn't the automated defenses, the guards, or the mechs. It was the Spectres inside.

Finally, Shepard arrived at the room assigned for the meeting. It had been easy to find thanks to the additional security put into place. Extra guards had been stationed at the door, and the ceiling auto-turrets had been brought out of their compartments in preparation for possible attack.

"Greetings sir," the Asari guard at the door said, "they're all waiting for you inside."

Shepard nodded, the door slid open for him and he entered. The room he walked into was large enough to comfortably accommodate two dozen individuals easily. The majority of the space was dominated by a long rectangular table, around which half a dozen beings were already seated around. Shepard instantly recognized Jondum Bau and Roussel. He sent a polite acknowledging nod their way, Bau returned it while Roussel just gave a lackluster wave.

"Shepard," the baritone of Council Anderson addressed him. Shepard noted that all four Councilors had been seated at a separate table at the back of the room which had been elevated up so that they could look down on those seated at the larger table.

"Councilors," Shepard saluted.

"Thank you for joining us Shepard," said Councilor Tevos.

"We've reviewed your report to us Commander, we found what you sent us...disturbing to say the least," said Councilor Sparatus.

"Indeed, this combined with the recent events on Tuchanka have made us revise our initial assessment of the situation. As a result, we have invited some of your colleagues to attend this meeting."

Shepard nodded. "Thank you Councilors."

Besides Bau and Roussel, there were four others at the table. One Asari, Two Turians, and a Salarian. Shepard recognized none of them unfortunately, something the Asari seemed to pick up on.

"A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance Shepard. I am Kala Uthanear." Shepard recognized the name, but only a little. If he recalled correctly, she'd killed a lot of Terminus slavers and pirates with a spear.

"Good to meet you ma'am."

"Heh, ma'am. No one's ever called me that before." The pale blue Asari tugged on the red bandana wrapped around her crest. Shepard noticed that the bandana was Human made, which was unusual since only the younger Asari found anything Human made to be wearable. Was she still in her maiden stage? It was hard to tell with Asari, Shepard remembered that he'd been fairly surprised to learn that Liara was over a hundred years old.

Following their colleague's example, the two Turians introduced themselves next. They both stood and gave him a Turian salute. Both were the same height, the same size, the same dark grey colored scales, and even wore the same red face paint and black armor with red detailing. The only discernable difference between the two was the design of the paint.

"Well met Shepard," said the one on the right. "I am Tiro Agitis this is my twin brother Niro Agitis."

Twins? Then these had to be the 'Red Twins' that he'd heard about. Apparently they'd been a thorn in Aria's side for years, and had once even gotten close to dethroning the Queen of Omega for good.

"Good to meet you both," said Shepard.

"It's an honor to be working with you commander," Niro said, his tone was more jovial than his brother's. "Is it true you work with Archangel? Can you get me his autograph?"

Caught off guard by the request, Shepard stuttered. "Uh...I'll see what I can do."

Everyone waited for the Salarian to introduce himself. A few moments of awkward silence passed as the unknown Salarian did nothing more than stare at Shepard with his big black eyes.

"Twenty pounds," the Salarian finally said, rather quietly.

"Excuse me?"

Bau coughed. "Forgive Pibum Turlano for his eccentricities Shepard. He tends to measure people in how many pounds of explosives he'd need to kill them."

"I scored twenty also," Roussel commented.

"...I see," Shepard had never heard of Pibum Turlano, but he guessed that the Salarian must have once been a demolition expert for the STG. Salarian Spectres were often picked from the Special Tasks Group.

"If you're all done with introductions, perhaps we can start this meeting," Councilor Sparatus said impatiently. Shepard took the hint and uploaded his presentation to the projector in the middle of the table. The projector hummed and images from Shepard's helmet camera sprang to life above the table for all in the room to see.

Using his Omni-tool, John forwarded the images till he came to one of Tyco holding a gun to 'Miranda's' head.

"This is Captain Tyco. No known other name or aliases. He is one of two individuals leading the force my team and I encountered on CDEM Checkpoint Station A-02. Recently we traveled to the planet Kal-Riv and apprehended Tyco," Shepard switched the picture to one of the CAT6 base on Kal-Riv, the picture had been taken from Garuss's eye piece. "On Kal-Riv, we discovered that Tyco had set up an operation with CAT6, the base has since been destroyed. Tyco is now in our custody at C-SEC headquarters."

"You said that he is one of two," said Tiro. "Who is the second."

"We don't know much about him, only that he guys by the title: The Wrath," Shepard brought up a picture of The Wrath. "He may dress like something out of an edgy teenager's fantasy, but trust me when I say the guy is no joke. He took on my whole team, killed one of my men, and left several others in critical condition."

"How many pounds?" Pibum whispered as he steepled his fingers and stared at the picture. Shepard ignored the comment and continued.

"Since the mission to Kussov, Agent Roussel and I have identified a third member," Shepard brought up a picture of Cipher Nine holding his knife to Miranda's throat. "Gender is assumed to be male. Species is unknown but likely either Human or Batarian based on the shape. We know virtually nothing about him except that he is well trained, and that he has a code name."

Shepard let the clip play. _"Most people simply call me by my codename: Cipher Nine."_

"He can't be that well trained if he gave away his own code name," commented Kala.

"I think he was taunting me to be honest, or he was just very confident that I'd never be able to find anything on him," said Shepard. "During our time on Kuusov, we saw Cipher Nine giving orders to Tyco. We believe that is indicative of some sort of command structure between these three."

Shepard tapped his Omni-tool and the pictures of The Wrath, Cipher Nine, and Tyco rearranged themselves so that The Wrath was at the top while Tyco was at the bottom, below Cipher Nine.

"How do you know The Wrath is at the top?" asked Niro.

"At this point that's mostly conjecture form this moment," Shepard played a new clip, one form his own helmet-cam. The clip was from when he'd first encountered The Wrath and Tyco on the CDEM station.

 ** _"You're late Captain Tyco."_**

 _"My apologies my lord. Allow me to make amends by eliminating these intruders."_

 ** _"You may kill those two,"_** The Wrath pointed at Miranda and Jacob off screen. _**"The Commander is mine."**_

Shepard stopped the clip. "Humanity doesn't have any lords, at least none that have any real power. It's possible that The Wrath is a Batarian noble, someone high up in their caste system. I'd guess either Cloud or Heaven caste, except as you can see his helmet has only two eyes."

"It could simply be a ploy to throw us off," Bau suggested. "The Batarian Hegemony has been a thorn in the Council's side for years. Perhaps they have finally decided to start taking a more active offensive against us. If so, they may may be endeavoring to wage a shadow war with us."

"Using Humans?" Councilor Anderson asked incredulously.

Bau shrugged. "It's not impossible. Tyco might be a member of their slave army. Though much of their military is made up of Batarians, the Hegemony has also been known to use slaves as well."

"I'm not sure about that, Tyco seemed too well trained to be a slave, too proud also," Shepard added.

"He is a well trained slave then," said Bau. "One who has been indoctrinated into the Hegemony's beliefs and given a certain amount of power. Think about it, what better proxy for the Hegemony to use?"

Shepard had to admit that it made a certain amount of sense.

"Slaver scum, the lot of them," Pibum spat quietly.

"Well, if this is some sort of Hegemony conspiracy, then they ought to be given a medal for faking their technological inadequacies," said Roussel. "Show them the laser guns Shepard."

That caught everyone's attention. Shepard brought out a large metal case that he had carried with him and placed it on the table. He entered a quick eight digit code to unlock it and then opened it, revealing the valuable loot inside: one laser rifle, one laser pistol, and one black helmet.

Shepard handed the rifle to Kala, the pistol to Tiro and Niro, and the helmet to Pibum.

"These were what Tyco's personal squad was armed with. We recovered six of each weapon, as well as six suits of their armor," he explained.

"And these really are direct energy weapons?" Niro asked, a bit skeptical. Shepard couldn't blame him.

Bau immediately stepped in, "you can take our word for it. Both Roussel and I saw these weapons work, and I can assure you that they do not use accelerator technology."

"Hmm, incredible," said Tiro as he examined the pistol in his hand. "Does it have some sort of ammo? Or does it have an internal generator?"

"As best as my chief engineer can tell, the weapons use a power pack to ignite some sort gas inside of the weapon. Each shot takes a minuscule amount of gas, while the packs need to be switched out for new ones after a while. So far though we can't figure out what kind of gas it is."

"Hmmm, that's not too different from accelerator weapons," Kala noted. "Still though, real laser guns. That's pretty sick."

 _Sick?_ Shepard had never heard an Asari use Human slang, ever. It was, to be quite honest, a little weird.

"Symbol?" asked Pibum, gesturing to the pinwheel like symbol on the helmet's forehead.

"We've run it through the Alliance database, and the Spectre records, it doesn't match anything," answered Shepard.

"This kind of throws your Batarian theory into an abyss Bau," said Niro, "there's no way the Hegemony could ever have weapons like this."

"Not necessarily," argued Bau. "Whose to say they're the ones who developed it? Perhaps a freelance researched discovered the method and sold them to the Hegemony, who in turn armed their slave soldiers with them. And this symbol on the helmet, it looks quite a bit like a wheel of pain, a barbaric instrument that the Batarians use to punish their slaves."

"That's a bit of a long flight."

"I'm simply stating my observations."

"How many of these do you think they have?" Tiro asked, changing the direction of the conversation.

"I can't say for sure," Shepard admitted. "But with what's happened on Tuchanka, I'm starting to think they have enough to arm a whole army."

The thought was a chilling one. An entire army armed with energy weapons would be a force unlike any ever encountered in Citadel history. Kinetic shields would absolutely useless against them, the rules and strategies of warfare would have to rewritten entirely. Not since the development of the conical bullet would something so drastically reshape the way sentient beings killed one another.

"And that brings us to the recent tragedy on Tuchanka," said Councilor Tevos. "Five standard Citadel cycles ago, the 9th Hierarchy Fleet, ferrying the 141st Legion of Palaven, traveled to the planet of Tuchanka to carry out a peace keeping mission. Their objective was simple. Police the planet's natives and secure any illegal weaponry. Once the planet was deemed safe, the Citadel's Ambassadors would negotiate with the Krogan."

"We lost contact with the whole task force four cycles ago," said Sparatus.

"Are we sure that they're all gone?" asked Kala, "I mean maybe their QEC just isn't working. Maybe they just haven't had time to make a report."

"The Council asked for regular updates from Admiral Regirus and General Vakarian," explained Councilor Valern. "After the third cycle without any contact, we had C-SEC send a small team to investigate. Soon after, we lost contact with that team as well. But not before they transmitted this image."

Shepard's pictures were replaced with a new one, one of a planet. He was confused at first, what did this planet and its asteroid field have to do with what was happening on Tuchanka? Had the C-Sec team made a mistake? Then Shepard realized that the planet _was_ Tuchanka, and the asteroid field wasn't an asteroid field, it was a graveyard. The wreckage of no less than a hundred ships were littered above the planet, no doubt they were looking at all that was left of the 9th Fleet.

"Goddess..." whispered Kala as she came to the same realization.

"Do we have any idea who is responsible?" asked Tiro, a small growl beneath his voice.

"We have nothing solid," said Councilor Anderson, "but given the timing of Shepard's own experiences on Tuchanka, we have to assume that it is the same group that he encountered on Kal-Riv and on the CDEM station."

"But the 9th Fleet had at least 100 ships! And Admiral Regirus is a veteran! What could the Krogan or the Hegemony possibly have that would let them defeat her?!" Niro asked. His brother placed the answer on the table, the laser pistol.

"Commander Shepard, when you encountered these individuals, The Wrath, Cipher Nine, Tyco, did they have ship based energy weapons?" asked Tiro.

Shepard shook his head. "No, I don't believe so. Though to be honest I never actually saw any of their ships."

"You've been interrogating this Tyco for the past couple of cycles, yes?" asked Sparatus.

"Yes Councilor."

"During your questioning, did he ever say or suggest that he and his allies might have ship based weapons on the level of what you have presented here?"

"He did say that the ones that we secured were older models, but I took that as a taunt, or something to throw me off."

"Are you completely sure of that?"

"...No," Shepard answered after some hesitation. "To be honest, Tyco has proven to be a real hard nut to crack."

"I beg your pardon? What do nuts have to do with this?" asked Bau.

"Human saying," explained Roussel, "basically means that he's a tough wanker and we need beat the piss out of him before he starts spilling his guts."

"Ah...I see. If that is the case, then I would like to lend you assistance in the matter Commander. We helped you capture him after all, and I am well versed in methods of physical interrogation."

Shepard was taken aback. The calm way that Bau had offered to torture Tyco, the Salarian Spectre hadn't even blinked or flinched. It was honestly a little creepy. Not that Shepard was a stranger to using physical violence to get answers out of people. On Elysium, he'd had to use his fists more than once to get intel out of some pirate or slaver. But that had always been something he'd done in the heat of the moment, when he had been angry and desperate to save more lives. Bau treated the act with a clinical detachment.

"I can give it a whirl too," Roussel offered, taking out her kukri and playing with the tip.

"We're having him transported to the Black Box soon. If you think you can help get answers, I won't turn down help."

Councilor Sparatus flared his mandibles in a Turian gesture of frustration. "There are still far too many unanswered questions for my taste, and I fear that I don't have the patience to wait for you to slowly pry them out of your prisoner Shepard. We need more soon, so that we can figure out how to act."

"Agreed," said Anderson. Shepard was surprised, it was rare that the Turian and Human Councilor ever found themselves on the same side of anything. Common enemies made for strange bedfellows its seemed.

"Then perhaps we should find more answers," Valern suggested.

"And how do you purpose we do that?" asked Anderson.

"The answer we seek are all on Tuchanka. I say that we go there and get them."

"The Hierarchy just lost a whole fleet over Tuchanka and you want to send another?" Tevos asked.

"No, not a fleet. Far too loud and noticeable. Something smaller is required."

Anderson crossed his arms. "We already tried that, remember?"

"True. But our C-Sec investigation team did not have access to the most advanced stealth warship in Citadel space." All eyes in the room turned to Commander Shepard.

The Human Spectre considered the plan for a moment. The Salarian Councilor was correct in saying all the answers they wanted were on Tuchanka. Whatever destroyed the Turian fleet would likely still be hanging around the planet. If nothing else they would be able to learn what kind of a force they were up against. How many ships, what kind of weapons they used, hell, what they looked like what be more than what they had right now. It'd be a risky mission, but Joker and the _Normandy_ had carried Shepard and his team through the Omega-4 Relay.

Finally, Shepard nodded. "My crew can get the job done Councilors."

"So while your off scouting, we've got to wait to play with Tyco?" asked Roussel.

Shepard thought about Roussel's question. Though Tuchanka was more likely to give them answers, Tyco was still a solid lead, and one that was right here at the heart of the Citadel. If the mission to Tuchanka didn't pan out, they'd still need to question the prisoner for any intel he had.

"I'll leave one of my team to oversee the interrogation," Shepard decided. "They'll have lead on how things go, but you're free to help them with it."

Roussel rolled her eye in exasperation. "Fine, we'll play nice."

The Human Spectre made a mental note to make sure whoever he left could deal with Roussel's snark.

"Councilors, I'd like to accompany Commander Shepard on this mission of his," Kala said. "It can't hurt to have two Spectres on the job."

"If Commander Shepard has room aboard his ship," said Tevos.

Shepard nodded. "I'd be honored to have you aboard ma'am."

"Heh, ma'am, keep calling me that and we'll get along great," Kala threw a wink his way.

"While you're doing that, the three of us," Tiro gestured to himself, his brother, and Pibum, "will do some investigating of the Hegemony. Bau's theory about the Batarians might be a long shot, but it's better to rule it out as a possibility then simply assume it isn't true."

Bau nodded. "Thank you."

The Councilors exchanged small nods with one another, and then Tevos spoke. "Very well then, may the Goddess be with you all Spectres, and good luck. Hopefully the next time we meet, we shall finally understand the threat that we face."

* * *

While the others left the room, Shepard gestured for Roussel and Bau to stay behind.

"A moment of your time?"

"Of course," said Bau. Roussel said nothing but followed.

"While you're questioning Tyco. See if you can get him to talk about why Cipher Nine took Legion."

"Your Geth ally?"

"Yeah, Legion is special. His body isn't like the usual Geth platforms, it's a lot tougher, meant for operating as an individual instead of with a group. While I was working with Cerberus, some of their people told me that it might be possible to reverse engineer the technology. I'm afraid that's what they wanted Legion for."

The Salarian Spectre nodded understandingly. "I'll make a point to ask about it."

"Thank you Bau." Shepard paused, then added, "and you Roussel."

"Oooh, that looked like it hurt to say," she smirked.

* * *

 **Citadel Embassies**

Midway through his return to the _Normandy_ to announce their latest mission, Shepard received a call from Zaeed telling him to go to the Embassies. Knowing that the old mercenary had been working to find info, Shepard had Patel change course and drop him off. After a short walk Shepard found Zaeed waiting for him outside the embassy building.

"Alright Zaeed, I'm here, so what's so important?"

"Thane and I found a contact we thought you might like to meet. Got some juicy intel that might help with finding our way through this big pile of shit."

Shepard sighed. "At this point, any help would be good. So where..." Shepard squinted. "...is that Jack?"

"Where?"

"Over there." Without waiting for an answer Shepard started to push through the heavy crowd towards a familiar bald head. He'd specifically ordered Jack to stay at the hospital. She'd complained about being bored constantly, but he'd been firm that her being there was non-optional.

"Hey! Jack!" Shepard roughly grabbed the bald woman by the shoulder and spun her around. "I thought I told you to...you're not Jack."

"No, I'm not," the woman said, her frown indicating that she did not appreciate being grabbed by a stranger. Though she had a bald head like Jack did, there were several major differences between them.

Jack was slender, even lanky, due to years of prison living. This woman had a healthy figure, with a larger bust and fuller hips, that could be seen even with the patchwork armor that she wore. That, Shepard noted, was another difference he really should have noticed. When not in combat, Jack tended to wear minimum coverage.

This woman did have tattoos, but where Jack's tattoos covered her entire body this woman's tattoos were limited to artistic black lines along her eyes and lips.

"Look, you're cute and all, but I usually only like to do rough stuff after a few drinks or a fight. So you got a problem with me sleemo? Or you looking to have a good time?" the woman asked, her hand reaching towards a knife on her belt.

"What? Oh! No, no sorry I thought you were someone else," said Shepard, quickly taking his hand off her shoulder.

The woman quirked a brow. "You know I've killed people for a lot less."

"I don't want any trouble ma'am. Just thought you were a friend of mine, it was my mistake," said Shepard. He had no doubt he could incapacitate the woman if it came down to it, but he didn't want to have to. Surprisingly the woman smirked and rolled her eyes.

"Well, if you've got a friend that looks like me, then you at least have good taste. I guess I'll let it slide this time." Her hand fell away from the knife. "See you around then, Commander Shepard."

The woman gave him a wink and then walked away without another word, her hips swaying with exaggerated swagger. It was only after she'd disappeared from sight that Shepard realized he'd never gotten her actual name, yet she'd known his. That wasn't too surprising, after all he was somewhat famous for being the first Human Spectre and the Battle of the Citadel.

"Heh, the balls on that lady," Zaeed chuckled while chewing his cigar. "She knew exactly who you were and still wanted to pick a fight. We still recruiting?"

Shepard rolled his eyes. "I think the _Normandy_ has enough personalities already Zaeed."

"Eh, you never know."

"No, I think I do. I'm the one who had to settle all those fights, remember?"

Zaeed just shrugged and took a huff from his cigar.

"Come on, I'm eager to see what kind of info this contact of yours has got."

Zaeed took the lead into the embassy building. Shepard found himself surprised that the mercenary seemed to know his way so well around the building, the people here didn't seem like the type to rub shoulders with a man like Zaeed. Then again, many of these same people were in need of bodyguards, so perhaps Zaeed was the kind of man they'd rub shoulders with. Eventually they came to an office that Shepard didn't recognize. Zaeed gave a few taps on the door and it opened.

Inside was a fairly small office, barely large enough to allow the two Humans to stand at a comfortable distance from one another. Sitting behind a short desk and sitting on what was basically a fancy stool, was a Volus wearing a well decorated enviro-suit.

" _ksssh,_ Commander Shepard, _kssssh_ , we meet again," the Volus said.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other?"

" _ksssh_ , Oh, so you don't remember me," the Volus sounded disappointed. "I am Din Korlack, the Volus ambassador. _Kssssh,_ we met briefly after your Spectre coronation."

"Ah, now I remember. You're Zaeed's contact?"

" _ksssh_ , I have made use of Mr. Massani's services in the past. _ksssh,_ And I have friends in tall places, as you Humans say."

"Right, now that we all know who everyone is, why don't you tell Shepard what you told me," said Zaeed.

" _ksssh,_ Of course. I recently came into possession of some information that Mr. Massani believes you will be interested in. _kssssh,_ information about CAT6."

"And that would be?"

" _kssssh,_ CAT 6 is on the Citadel."

* * *

 **Citadel Docks - Security Checkpoint 73**

"Next."

C-SEC Sergeant Haron logged the entry into the system as the strange Human with the eloquent speech moved through the security check's exit doors. It had been a fairly standard day so far in a fairly standard week. He checked his Omni-tool and was dismayed to see he still had an hour before he was relieved for his break.

Another hour of filling out forms and running the scanners. Why didn't they just get a damn VI to do this job? It was easy enough, all you had to do was tell people to stand still, let the scanners do their work, then log the entry into the system. Damn budget cuts.

The door at the head of the checkpoint opened. Haron looked up from his terminal and was hard pressed to hide his surprise.

It was a group of three. Two humans, one female and one male, and a mech. But it wasn't any kind of mech that he'd ever seen before. It was short, kind of round, and moved around on wheels. Every now and then it would let out a small burp or beep of electronic noise.

The Humans were similarly strange, both wore long flowing brown robes. Haron hadn't seen very many Humans dressed like that before, maybe it was a growing fad?

The female was tall and had brown coffee colored skin. Her eyes were a stormy blue and her hair, which was tied into a sensible bun, was a interesting bloody red color.

The male was taller than his compatriot and had the hood of his robes pulled over his head. But even with the hood hiding most of the Human's features, Haron could still make out the strip of white cloth wrapped around the Human's face where the eyes would have been. Was he blind? Maybe they'd come to the Citadel to seek medical help?

"Hello," the blind Human said, Haron found the Human's voice surprisingly friendly and calming.

"Hello," Haron replied. "Please hold still while the scanners work."

The Humans did just that. There was a low electronic buzz as the scanners did their job, then Haron received the results on his screen. He gave the information a quick look over and found nothing out of the ordinary.

"Before you go, I have to ask. What's with the mech?" Ever since the Geth attack nearly 3 years ago, C-SEC had doubled down on mechs of any kind. Haron found it surprising that the two Humans would be allowed to just bring one with them, they weren't Spectres after all.

"It's my support mech," said the blind one, "it assists me with my disability. I need it to navigate new areas." He gestured to the white band of cloth wrapped around his face that covered his 'eyes'.

"Doesn't look like any model of mech I've seen before," said Haron.

"It's a prototype. Should be available to the public soon."

"Hmm, well I'll still need to see your license and registration for it. New policies and all of that. I'll also need to report the model and make to my-"

The female Human suddenly stepped forward. "You don't need to see our license and registration," she said while waving her hand.

What was he thinking? He didn't need to see their license and registration. "Heh, I don't need to see your license and registration."

"Everything checks out, we're free to go through."

Haron logged their entry and nodded happily. "Everything checks out, you're free to go through."

"Have a nice day," she added.

"Have a nice day," Haron repeated.

The door opened and the two Humans and their mech companion moved passed the scanners and into the Citadel.

"Next!" said Haron.

* * *

"I don't think that was necessary, I'm sure Holiday could have conjured something up quickly," said Trey, once they were far enough away.

"I know, but I haven't had a chance to do a **Mind Trick** in a while. Had to make sure I hadn't gotten rusty," Iris explained.

"You wanted to have fun," Trey playfully accused.

Iris shrugged. "Details my friend, details. And don't act like you weren't about to do the same."

Trey chuckled. It had been a long time since they had been in place so densely populated as the Citadel. The Barsen'thor would have been lying if he had said that he hadn't missed being among so many other sentient lifeforms. As a Miraluka, he saw everything through the Force, and it was through living beings that the Force manifested most beautifully. It was an experience, seeing all these beings going about their lives through the eyes of the Force.

One level above looking down from a balcony, a young couple held each other lovingly. The Turian male wrapped his arms around his Asari lover and whispered sweet things into her ear that made her blush a deep purple.

To his right, an old Salarian running a store conversed with his employee, a younger member of the same species. They traded friendly barbs and countered one another's ideas about bio-engineering. Occasionally they would pause their conversation to assist a customer, but then immediately resume once the business was finished.

To his left, he saw a family comprised of the parents, a female Human and an Asari, and their child. The young child had a toy spaceship in her hand and was playfully running around making engine noises with her mouth, while the parents looked on lovingly.

Trey sighed. Yes, he had missed looking at life.

"Hey, where's Tharan? I thought we told him to wait for us?" Iris asked, jostling Trey out of his trance.

"Tharan often does whatever his curiosity tells him to do," said the Barsen'thor.

Tee-Seven let a series of whistles. _"Tharan = should be more like Tee-Seven = Never leave Jedi friend side"_

"No one is like you Tee-Seven, you're special," Iris patted their droid companion affectionately.

Trey was just about to suggest they split up to look for Tharan when his comlink received an incoming call. He answered it and was greeted by Holiday's cheerful voice.

 _"Master Wyse-mon? Are you there? Can you hear me? Yoo-hoo?"_

"I can hear you Holiday," said Trey.

 _"Oh goodie! Sorry about that, signals get so stringy around the Citadel."_

"Holiday, where are you and Tharan? We thought you'd be waiting at us after the security check."

 _"We were, but the Tharan felt the need to move around. He's always get so restless after a long journey. We found this lovely little place on the Presidium called Apollo's Café. Come join us, they've got the cutest little pastries!"_

Trey glanced at Iris, who shrugged. "He's your friend," she said.

"Very well, we'll meet you there," Trey decided, "just try to make sure Tharan doesn't leave before we get there."

 _"Can do master Jedi, see you soon! Toodles!"_

* * *

True to Holiday's word, the two Jedi and Tee-Seven found Theran lounging in the Presidium Commons at one of the tables of Apollo's Cafe. The scientist was sat back in his chair, sipping a colorful looking beverage that had a small umbrella in it.

Trey and Iris silently took seats at the table where they found similar colorful drinks waiting for them.

"I swear, those security checks get longer and longer each time I come here. If only these simple minded paranoids would allow program like Holiday to do the processing, it would everything go so much faster, and it would eliminate the need to deal with annoying customs agents." Tharan Cedrax punctuated his rant by gulping down the rest of his drink.

"It only took ten minutes," Trey pointed out.

"That was ten minutes I could have been doing something more useful than standing still so some scanner could scan me."

 _"Oh Tharan honey, you shouldn't work yourself up like that. You know you're underappreciated in this galaxy,"_ said the disembodied voice of Tharan's personal aide, Holiday.

Tharan sighed heavily. "I know Holiday my dear. I suppose it's all worth it in the end, to see all this wonderful technology. Look there!" Trey and Iris followed Tharan's finger to an air-bus flying by. "They propel their vehicles by using an electrical current to manipulate dark energy, thus changing the mass content of space time. I've seen it so many times, studied it over 5 years, even worked on it myself, and yet I am still amazed at the possibilities provided by Eezo."

"The inhabitants of this galaxy have only scratched the surface," Tharan continued. Once he started monologuing, Trey knew it was impossible to make him stop. "Just imagine what could be achieved when it is combined with the hyperdrive technology of our native galaxy. Hyperspace travel could become so much more efficient, it could revolutionize the way we to unlock the secret of those Mass Relays, and perhaps even make one of our own."

"I thought you'd already learned how to hybridize Mass Effect and Hyperspace technology Doctor Cedrax. That is how we got here isn't it?" asked Iris.

"It is indeed my lovely scarlet haired Jedi," replied Tharan.

"Uh...what?"

"But I'm afraid so far I've only managed to combine the two technologies on the level of a small freighter. Though the _Handsome Mongrel_ is one of my finest pieces of work, it's hybrid engine design would not work for anything larger, such as a dreadnought, or even a frigate. Still, if our galaxy were not lashing under the Imperial whip, then it would have made incredible waves in the scientific community." Tharan looked down into his empty glass. "Instead, it shall all be wasted on those buffoons and barbarians in the Sith Empire."

"Well that's why we're here Doctor Cedrax," said Iris. "It's finally time to strike back against the Sith. We'll avenge the Jedi Order, restore the Republic, and bring an end to the Empire. Isn't that right Trey?"

"I...yes, of course Iris, it is as you say," said Trey.

"Hm, oh look! It's the _Unassailable!_ " Tharan pointed up past the arms of the wards to the cloud of small specks out in the sky. The specks were in fact the Citadel's entire defensive fleet, and the largest of the specks was the Turian dreadnought, _Unassailable,_ currenlty serving as the fleet's flagship. "It's an ugly thing isn't it? But I've been told that it uses a new form of Silaris armor for its hull. I'd love to analyze the metallurgy behind its creation."

 _"I bet it'd look lovely on the Handsome Mongrel,"_ commented Holiday, _"maybe in a nice shade of red! No, blue!"_

Trey smiled. When they had first come to this galaxy, Tharan had immediately become enamored with the local technology. Thus they hadn't seen much of each other for the past 5 years. Tharan was always off exploring the galaxy, mingling with its inhabitants, and studying its secrets. Trey had missed the scientist's endearing sense of humor and wit.

The ship that they were now traveling in, the _Handsome Mongrel,_ was a result of Tharan's travels. Originally it had been a freighter that they had been brought with them during their exodus to the Milky Way. Now though, it was the only ship in existence to utilize both Mass Effect and Hyperspace FTL technology.

He wished that the others could be here as well. But for now, it was best to keep the group small and unnoticeable.

"Holiday, are you sure you managed to erase us from the security cameras?" Trey asked.

 _"Oh don't you worry your handsome little head master Jedi. I've been in their systems here plenty of times, and each time I've left a few backdoors that I could use when I was feeling a little naughty,"_ answered Holiday. _"As far as these systems are concerned. The five of us were never here! Though I do wish they'd give their cyber architecture a little flair. It's so frumpy! "_

Tee-Seven let out a series of beeps and whistles. _"Holiday = Best slicer! / T7 wishes could give Holiday +++ Hug!"_

 _"Awww, thank you Tee-Seven, I'd hug you too if I could,"_ Holiday cooed. Tee-Seven let out a happy noise.

Usually Holiday would appear in her holographic form as a beautiful young woman in revealing clothing -which was her own choice-, but among the denizens of the Milky Way galaxy she was severely more restricted . A hologram talking and expressing itself in a very sentient way would immediately start a panic, thus Holiday limited her presence to the group's communicators.

Even with the risk, Trey was thankful that they had decided to bring both TeeSeven and Holiday for this journey. Between the two of them, anything about their presence that could not be hidden with the Force could taken care of by their combined technical skills.

"Well, we're here," said Iris, "we made it to the Citadel. Now what do we do?"

Everyone turned to Trey, the leader of their group. At first the Barsen'thor did not respond. He remained still and betrayed no hint of his thoughts.

Then he finally spoke.

"We wait, and let the Force guide us."

* * *

"Next."

The next group walked in, Haron looked up form his terminal and did a double take. The group consisted of two individuals, a Human male and a mech. What were the odds of two in a row?

The Human was older looking, with pale skin, wrinkles, and a bald head but a full beard of graying hair. Haron didn't like beards, he thought that they were weird looking. Plus, why would you want fur around your mouth? How would you eat?

"Hello sir! I am Doctor Erik Loris, a pleasure to make your-"

"What's with the mech?" Haron asked, cutting off the Human's speech.

"Oh, yes of course. This is my health support mech," Doctor Loris explained. "I have a bit of a health condition you see, and my mind isn't what it used to be. It helps me remember when to take my medicine."

Haron looked at the mech. It wasn't like the last one, which had been short, stout, and move around on wheels. Though clearly made out of metal and not flesh, its body resembled Human female's, a shapely one at that. It's head though was a little oddly shaped and reminded Haron of a fish for some reason. What was the purpose of making its body realistic? Maybe it also doubled as a sex toy? The mech's glowing yellow eyes turned and stared directly at him, sending a small chill up Haron's spine. For a moment there he'd thought that it had been...glaring at him?

No, that was impossible. Or was it?

"It doesn't look like a standard model," Haron said. "I'm going to have to inform my Captain about-"

A chirp, indicating a call from his Omni-tool cut Haron off. He noted that the number read as 'unknown' so he ignored it.

"I'm going to have to inform-"

Once again a chirp from his Omni-tool cut him off. Once again the number read as unknown. Haron hit the ignore button again.

"I'm-"

Another chirp.

"Perhaps you should answer it," suggested Doctor Loris, "seems someone is trying to get your attention."

Haron sighed. "Right, sorry about this, just give me one second."

"Of course," the Human nodded enthusiastically, "take all the time you need sir."

Haron answered the call. "Who the hells is this and why the hells do you keep calling me?!"

 _"I would speak a little more quietly if I were you Sergeant Haron,"_ a smooth female voice said.

"What? Why would I-"

 _"Unless you want everyone to hear about that little adventure you had two weeks ago."_

Haron felt his blood freeze. "Wha...what are you talking about?"

 _"Oh, I think you know what I mean Sergeant Haron,"_ the voice said with a tinge of amusement. _"A small trip down to the lower levels of the Zakera Ward. A small shabby hotel called The Rendezvous. You went there, paid for a room with a single bed, and had a single visitor, didn't you?"_

Without waiting for Haron's response, a new set of voices began to speak into his ear.

 _"Spirits woman, you're going to get me murdered one day,"_ Haron heard his own voice say, the Turian felt his stomach jump into his throat.

 _"What can I say? I'm a terrible woman, I can't help it if I have...urges. So very many urges,"_ said a female's voice.

 _"Mmmm, the things I do to help you with your condition. Come here,"_ said Haron's voice again.

 _"My my, how will Sergeant Sanders feel when he learns that you're having an affair with his wife? I imagine it would be quite the scandal if it were to get out on the extranet."_

Haron swallowed and did his best to try not show his fear as he spoke. "What do you want?"

 _"So many things, more than you could ever help me with. But for now Sergeant Haron, I want you to just forget you ever saw the two individuals in front of you."_

Haron looked up to see the Human was still giving him a friendly smile, while the mech remained impassive. Were they in on this? Haron gripped his terminal with his talons and squeezed till it hurt. Anger burned inside of him, how could they just threaten to destroy him and act as if it were nothing? He was tempted to call it in and have them arrested. But fear eventually won out over rage.

"There...there are security cameras. I won't be able to do anything about them," he said.

 _"You let me worry about that Sergeant Haron,"_ said the voice. _"They won't remember anything that happened here, as long as you don't."_

The fear welling up inside Haron threatened to make his legs give out. They had access to the security camera's? Spirits! Who were these people and what had he gotten in the middle of? Was this Spectre business? It had to be! Only they would have enough pull to get footage removed.

 _"Well Sergeant Haron?"_

"Alright, alright. I'll cooperate," he finally said.

 _"A very wise choice."_ The call ended.

"Is everything alright sir?" asked Doctor Loris.

"Everything is fine," Haron choked out. "You and your mech both checkout."

"And? You mentioned something about calling your superiors?"

"That...that won't be necessary."

"Ah! Glad to hear it! Then I suppose we shall be on our way." The Human's jovial manner grated on Haron's nerves.

"Just go!" Haron spat. Loris made a show of looking hurt, then left through the doors with his mech companion. Once they were gone, the Turian officer let out a heavy breath of relief.

He then logged a new entry into his terminal, citing that the group had been comprised of two Humans. If the voice had been telling the truth about the cameras, then no one would be the wiser about his little lie. Once this day was over, Haron resolved that he would forget anything and everything about it.

A quick check of his Omni-tool showed that he had half an hour until his break.

Haron sighed.

"Next."

* * *

This had been the first time that Eckard Lokin and SCORPIO had set foot on the Citadel. They did not walk very far from the checkpoint before they encountered their contact.

"Nice mech," said the bald woman who'd stepped in their path. "Doesn't look like the sprinklers are going to give us rain any time soon."

"Indeed, but I always carry a rain coat just in case," Lokin replied with a charming smile. "Hello Kaliyo, you're looking positively Human."

"Hey Doc, and thanks. A holo-disguise does wonders for a girl's complexion," Kaliyo replied. She then turned to SCORPIO. "So, Imp Intelligence didn't take you apart yet huh?"

 _"Your attempts to bait me are juvenile Kaliyo, desist immediately,"_ the sentient droid warned.

"You know, this galaxy is real sensitive about machines with attitude. I wonder how much I could get paid if I were to sell you to a Spectre."

"Now ladies, please remember we have a job to do," Lokin cut in.

"Yeah yeah," Kaliyo waved him off. "You get a good look at their system yet?"

 _"Their defenses were unusual and different from what I am used to,"_ SCORPIO admitted. _"But ultimately inferior. Forging our identities into their systems was child's play."_

"Good to know. Come on," Kaliyo jabbed a thumb over her shoulder, "I've got a shuttle parked nearby."

"Oh this is so exciting," said Lokin, "I do hope we have time for me to dissect a few of the local populace. I'd be very interested to study their inner workings. Particularly a Hanar, I am most interested in their ability to regenerate tentacles."

"You'll have to ask the boss first," said Kaliyo.

"Oh? Cipher Nine is here?"

"Sure is, and he's got some fun jobs for us lined up."

 _"Such as?"_ asked SCORPIO.

Kaliyo smiled. "We're gonna burn down the Citadel."

* * *

 _CODEX: CITADEL: NOTABLE LOCATIONS: THE BLACK BOX_

 _ **"Spirits of War and Fire! That's not an office! That's a sire-fucking fortress!" - Rinav Glacus, former Turian Council member**_

 _Spectre Alpha HQ, or the Black Box, is the center of all Spectre operations in the galaxy. Located on the opposite side of the Presidium from the Council Tower, the Black Box is the Tower's polar opposite. While the Tower is a place to conduct matters of high awareness and publicity, the Black Box is a place where the most secret dealings of the Citadel are done._

 _The Black Box was first constructed after the Krogan Rebellions as a place for Spectres to collude and collaborate with one another. It is also a place of testing and training. Often times potential Spectre recruits are brought to the Black Box to undergo rigorous live fire exercises to gauge their abilities as an operative. Experimental and often illegal technology is also often brought into the Black Box, usually to test the possible uses amongst Spectres._

* * *

 _SPECTER ARCHIVES: ACTIVE AGENTS_ _: KALA UTHANEAR_

 _ **WARNING: ALL OF THE BELOW CONTENT IS LEVEL ONE CLEARANCE. DISCLOSURE OF THIS INFORMATION TO ANY SOURCE WITH INSUFFICIENT CLEARANCE LEVEL SHALL RESULT IN CHARGES OF TREASON AND SUMMARY EXECUTION.**_

 _FORMAL TITLES: Council Spectre, Senior Commander of the Uthanear First Guard, Third Daughter of House Uthanear_

 _RACE: Asari_

 _AGE: 362_

 _Daughter of the famous Matriarch Lulius Uthanear, Kala Uthanear is the youngest of the Matriarch's three children. Her father was rumored to be Grand Cabal Bruto Galivka **,** of the Turian Hierarchy._

 _One of the youngest Asari ever to be inducted into the Spectres, her acceptance into their ranks was met with both applause and skepticism._

 _On one hand, Kala Uthanear is an incredibly skilled biotic and commando for her age, even among Asari. This is no doubt due in large part to her upbringing among her mother and father, both of whom are lauded warriors and biotic masters among their respective species. On the other hand, she is just barely out of her Maiden years and is considered by many of her species to still be the equivalent of a teenager. This in turn has caused many to doubt whether or not she is fit to be a member of the Spectres._

 _Despite the doubts of becoming a Spectre, Kala Uthanear has proven to be a welcome addition to their ranks. Most of her time is spent defending Asari colonies from Terminus pirates and slavers. Her most notable action to date has been killing the Salarian Terminus Warlord Filu to her submitted report on the incident, she killed him and a dozen of his bodyguards utilizing her favored weapon: a ***** spear of Asari design._

 _ ***** Like most modern Asari melee weapons, Kala Uthanear's spear doubles as a conduit for her biotics._

 _Since then, Aria T'Loak has placed a bounty of 1,000,000 credits worth of Eezo and Platinum on Kala Uthanear's head. Many bounty hunters, and pirates have since tried to claim the bounty. None have ever succeeded._

* * *

 _SPECTER ARCHIVES: ACTIVE AGENTS: PIBUM_ _"THE MAD BOMBER" TURLANO_

 _ **WARNING: ALL OF THE BELOW CONTENT IS LEVEL ONE CLEARANCE. DISCLOSURE OF THIS INFORMATION TO ANY SOURCE WITH INSUFFICIENT CLEARANCE LEVEL SHALL RESULT IN CHARGES OF TREASON AND SUMMARY EXECUTION.**_

 _FORMAL TITLES: Council Spectre, Senior Operative of the STG_

 _RACE: Salarian_

 _AGE: 39_

 _Never has there been a Spectre who has pushed the limits of his authority as Pibum Turlano has. His past is shrouded in mystery thought it is hypothesized by most of his colleagues and internet blogs that he was once a member of STG, and specialized in demolitions. Given that most Salarian Spectres are drawn from the ranks of STG and Pibum's incredible skill with explosives of all kinds, this is a likely possibility._

 _Pibum Turlano has made his name putting his skill to use against the most controversial of targets: The Batarian Hegemony. Though recognized by the Citadel Council as a legitimate government, many among the citizens in Citadel space are disgusted by the Hegemony's ongoing practice of slavery and pirating. It is also a well known fact that many of the slaves within the Hegemony are taken from Citadel space, though it has never been proven due to their use of proxies, and the Council's unwillingness to investigate further into the subject._

 _Unwilling to simply allow the Hegemony to continue to do as they please, Pibum has waged a 10 year shadow war against the Hegemony and its slave empire. Most of his targets relate to the Batarian's slave trade, including holding pens, education centers, and auction houses. While usually this would gain him applause among others, it is Pibum's willingness to kill Batarian civilians that earns him a great deal of scorn. In his eyes, all Batarians are guilty of participating in the slave trade._

 _Even so, to many in the Citadel he is considered a hero._

 _To the Batarian Hegemony, he is considered a terrorist._

 _The only individuals to garner as much hate from the Hegemony are Laura Roussel of the Systems Alliance Intelligence division, and Commander Alan Shepard who is also a Spectre and the Hero of Elysium._

 _Note: Pibum claims to have assassinated the Batarian Emperor using 100 pounds worth of explosives. However due to the fact that the Batarian Emperor has confirmed to still be alive, it is believed that these claims are simply a result of Pibum's eccentricities._

* * *

 **Wahoo! This time it didn't take a full month!**

 **Alright! I know not a whole lot happened this chapter, but that's just because it's more of a catch up piece to let us know where Shepard is at after spending so much time away from him.**

 **I know what you're all thinking. Awwww, why are we heading back to Tuchanka. Well there's a reason and trust me when I say we won't spend another 4 chapter arc on that planet again.**

 **Anyway, that's all for now.**

 **Bye!**


	19. Chapter 13: Panic Attack

**Star Wars is _owned_ by Lucas Arts Ltd and Disney. Mass Effect is owned by EA and BioWare.**

* * *

 **This chapter took too long to get out, so I'm going to be brief with my responses to reviews since I know you all just want to get to the good stuff. Basically, thank you all for sticking with me all this time.**

MEleeSmash **\- stick with me, you might be surprised by how it'll happen.  
** FerunaLutelou **\- it might still happen, just wait and see.  
** deadtrooper **\- thank you!  
** RabidArmenian **\- I might take some artistic liberties with how soon the Reapers arrive.  
** Kaioo **\- you'll just have to wait and see.  
** Barrour **\- At this point I think Revan sees Shepard more as a speed bump in his ultimate plan more than anything else, same with Roussel.  
** Luchux **\- I was wondering if anyone remembered that. Answer, yes, but your going to have to wait to meet him/her.  
** Tdritzman ** **\- Thank you!  
**** Guest2 ** ** ** **\- Excellent questions, I will answer what I can. Yes the Reapers are still around. Yes they will eventually have a part in the story. No comment on Eternal Fleet. How the Star Wars galaxy got to the Mass Effect galaxy will be explained in detail, but if you want a hint, read the prologue again.  
******** Alliance Empire ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- They'll get there soon. Trust me, I want it to happen just as much as you. Do you know how tired I am of writing "black armored solider" rather than "imperial trooper"?  
**************** Guest ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- With Revan in charge I don't see why the Chiss wouldn't be allied with the Empire.  
**************** Spartan Brony ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- Less arrogance, and more not seeing straight after being beaten so many times.  
**************** ABuzzman ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- But don't you want sweet lightsaber duels?  
******************************** TheDevilIsInTheDetails ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- Thank you! For answers about AVP:Omega, please see my profile page.  
******************************** Corvo ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- I understand your concerns about the Barsen'thor. There won't be a lot about him at first, but eventually we'll dive more into his character and you'll get to see the wise Jedi Master. But basically, since the JK is his friend he's a little more relaxed around her.  
******************************** Mandalorian Runescaper ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- It is a challenge, I challenge everyone! :)  
******************************** OBSERVER01 ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- You'll just have to keep reading and see what happens.  
******************************** TheApatheticOne ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- I don't know if I wanna answer that. I'll just say that Revan is Emperor for a very good reason.  
******************************** JustWriteAnon ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **\- That's fair. The section with the "Passing through Customs" scene was more meant to show off SCORPIO's abilities than anything. You'll see why as the story goes on.********************************

 ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** **Okay, now that that's all done. One with the story!********************************

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 13 – Panic Attack**

* * *

"Well, I think that was quite a productive meeting," said Tevos, her hands clasped together in keeping with her motherly veneer.

Anderson simply grunted his agreement.

"I do not," Sparatus growled and crossed his arms. "That meeting accomplished nothing other than to recap what we already know, and to send out several of our Spectres on obscure missions with vague objectives. We put forth the same goal that we had before: to find out more information."

"Information is something that we are sorely lacking in right now," Valern commented.

"Terran," Tevos began, using the Turian Councilor's first name, and keeping her voice even and calm, "we _all_ agreed that to mobilize more forces would cause unrest among the people. We've managed to plug any leaks about what has happened so far on Tuchanka. But if they see our fleets go off, questions will be asked, and eventually someone will find the answers. Smaller steps are needed until we have better news that can counterbalance the Tragedy of Tuchanka."

" _I_ didn't agree," said Sparatus, "I was outvoted."

"Sparatus, surely you can see the fallout of being hasty here. Right now we just can't afford it," said Anderson. "I myself want nothing more than to send in the troops. But I also don't want more lives to be lost than necessary."

Sparatus fixed the Human councilor with a glare. "You really think that this is our best course? Even with all your time as a military man? You really think that right now we should simply hold back and continue to allow the enemy to operate unopposed?"

"It's specifically because of my experience in the military that I think this is the best course. You don't send in the flag bearers before the scouts." Anderson paused, and let his words sink into the Turian. It worked, and Sparatus seemed to settle down just a bit.

"All we can do now," Anderson continued, "is be patient and trust in our Spectres."

* * *

 **In an undisclosed location...**

 _"Yeah, me, the mad doc, and the shiny bucket of bolts are at the safe house in the Zakera Ward."_

"I'll meet with you soon," said Cipher Nine, then without even saying good bye, he ended the transmission. Normally he would have already been at the safe house in the Zakera Ward to greet his team. It had been some time since he'd seen SCORPIO or Lokin. But the safe house in the Presidium was the only one set up with a long range holo-communicator, kept hidden beneath the floor tiles.

Quickly, the Imperial Agent uncovered the communicator and typed in the necessary codes. After a few moments of waiting the communicator established a connection.

Cipher Nine dropped down to one knee.

The life sized holographic projection of Emperor Revan appeared in front of the Imperial Agent. Standing next to the Emperor was two different figures. The taller of the two Cipher Nine immediately recognized, he was the Emperor's Will, also known as Darth Jadus. Both Jadus and the Emperor were currently facing the third holographic figure, whom Cipher Nine did not recognize.

The third figure was a male Quarian. It was impossible to tell what color the alien's suit was since the holo-projector tinted everything a blue hue, but Cipher Nine did notice that the Quarian had the symbol of the Empire stitched onto his suit's right shoulder.

None of them had acknowledged the presence of Cipher Nine yet, and so the Imperial Agent kept silent.

 _"You've done well Nilo'Kha, I am glad that everything worked out,"_ the Emperor said.

The Quarian bowed at the waist. _"It is I and my people who should thank you Emperor. Truly we are in your debt."_

 _"A debt that I'm sure will be pay a hundred times over, now that there will be cooperation between the Sith and the Quarians. I must tend to other matters now,"_ the Emperor placed a hand on the Quarian's shoulder. _"Go to your people. You have earned it."_

The Quarian bowed again before leaving. Finally the Emperor and Jadus turned to Cipher Nine. Having the weight of their combined attention made the Agent's shoulder's feel heavy. He'd served both men for many years, but time had done nothing to diminish their overwhelming presence.

 _"Cipher Nine,"_ the Emperor spoke first.

"My Emperor," the Agent bowed his head.

 _"Give us your report agent, how fares the campaign of terror?"_ When he had first heard Darth Jadus speak, Cipher Nine had felt his skin crawl, and it still did even to this day. There was just something so horribly unnatural about the Sith's tone. Jadus never raised his voice, and every command he gave felt more like a foretelling of things to come rather than an order.

"It goes well my lords," Cipher Nine started. "The destruction of the Turian forces at Tuchanka has shaken the Council. They are not used to being the ones in the dark. They have gathered their Spectres. Some are being sent to investigate the Batarian Hegemony, they believe it possible for them to be the ones behind recent events. Commander Shepard and Kala Uthanear have taken a mission to scout Tuchanka. They will use the _Normandy's_ advanced stealth systems."

 _"And how has the populace of the Citadel reacted?"_ asked Jadus.

"They have not yet. The Council is doing their best to censor the media and keep any information about Tuchanka to themselves. They believe that if the populace were to learn, it would cause a panic."

 _"They are right,"_ said the Emperor as he crossed his arms. _"After the Geth attack on the Citadel, it took the Council over a year and several billion credits worth of security projects before they had the public's trust again. If word were to get out about Tuchanka, if people were to learn that it was kept from them, it would shatter the fragile trust the Council has managed to rebuild."_ The Emperor paused to shift his arms behind his back. _"Tell me of the Council, Cipher Nine. Tell me of each member. Where does each of them stand?"_

"Tevos as always votes for the cautious approach, I think she is afraid of another Krogan Rebellion and is attempting to prevent any outcome that involves war. Sparatus on the other hand, wants nothing more than to give the order for even more forces to be sent to Tuchanka, to teach the Krogan and their allies a lesson. He would have the entirety of the Citadel's fleet go to Tuchanka if he could. But he is constantly held back by Tevos and Anderson, they talk him down from the pedestal whenever he lets his emotions get the better of him."

 _"And the Salarian?"_

"Valern would support Sparatus and often hints that he would. But will not risk openly opposing both Tevos and Anderson. If one of them were to change their minds, Valern would undoubtedly turn to openly showing more support for increased military action."

 _"Hmmm, there is a rancor among the bantha, and rancor are often easily goaded into charging head first,"_ Revan mused. _"All that they need is to smell the scent of fresh blood. You are sure about Sparatus? I wouldn't take a former military man such as him to let emotion rule his mind."_

"One hundred percent my Emperor. Here, look." Cipher Nine uploaded a data file to the communicator, and a video file started to play on the projector.

* * *

 _Sparatus sat at his desk, a glass of dark dextro-alcohol in his clutched talons. Sitting on the other side of the desk were two Turians. One was an older male, also holding a drink in his hand, with dark scales and white face paint. The other a middle aged female with gray scales and blue face paint. Unlike her compatriots, she did not imbibe._

 _"Fools, the lot of them," Sparatus grumbled into his drink._

 _"That's just how politicians are Terran,"_ _said the male Turian, using the Councilor's first name. "Preaching for caution and peace right up until the first shots are fired. Then they start singing national anthems and giving speeches on patriotism...no offense Councilor."_

 _"None taken General Oraka," said Sparatus._

 _"Ehem," the female Turian coughed._

 _"No offense intended towards you either Ambassador Kyor," said Oraka._

 _"None taken," she replied. "I do agree with you. Both of you. The Humans and the Asari are being fools. It's almost as if Tevos has forgotten the Krogan Rebellions."_

 _"I highly doubt that, considering she lived through it," said Sparatus, surprising his fellow Turians. "More than likely its because she remembers the Rebellions that she's being so cautious. That's how Asari are, always tip toeing when danger comes around. That's why they need Turians."_

 _"Heh, agreed," said Oraka._

 _"You talked with Valern's aide?" Sparatus asked Kyor._

 _She nodded. As the Turian ambassador to the Salarians, Kyor had it in with the members of the Salarian embassy. "He confirmed that Valern's views align with yours. But he is unwilling to go against Tevos openly, until he is sure the Humans could be convinced as well."_

 _"Overcautious scavenging..." Sparatus bit off the rest of his sentence, then turned to Oraka."What do you think old friend?"_

 _"You don't want to know what I'm thinking," said the retired Turian general._

 _"Yes I do. That's why I asked."_

 _Oraka sighed. "I think to the hells with the lot of them. Regardless of what the rest of the Council thinks, the Hierarchy needs to be prepared for the inevitable."_

 _Sparatus sat back in his chair and stayed silent for a moment. Then he downed the rest of his drink, slammed the glass on his desk, and stood up. "I'm going to send an encoded message to the Primarch informing him of the situation. I'll advise him to begin military build ups and moving the fleets into stand by. Time will prove our choice wise, and the galaxy will thank us for it, just as it thanked us the last time it was in peril."_

 _"Maybe we'll even get a statue in the Presidium," added Ambassador Kyor._

* * *

The video ended, and the holograms of the Emperor and The Will returned above the projector. It was impossible to know how both men were reacting to the video, as both wore masks that obscured their faces. But Cipher Nine had learned long ago to read body language, and both the Emperor and The Will were...intrigued.

 _"The stitches holding together their pitiful society are slowly coming undone,"_ said Jadus.

 _"Indeed,"_ said Revan. _"We have the Council exactly where we want them: confused, scared, and distrustful of one another. They are wandering aimlessly in the dark. They have no idea that they stand on the edge. All that is needed is a small push and their fall will be sealed."_

 _"Tevos and Anderson are farthest from that edge my master,"_ Jadus said. _"We must put the scent of their blood in the wind, and then the Rancor that is Sparatus will charge."_

 _"You speak truth, my Will."_ Revan turned to the Agent, still kneeling. _"Cipher Nine."_

"Yes my lords?"

 _"Proceed with phase 2 of your mission. Eliminate Councilor Tevos and Councilor Anderson."_

* * *

 **Citadel Docks**

After his meeting with Din Korlack, Shepard spent the trip back to the _Normandy_ inside of his head, which unfortunately meant that Zaeed had been allowed to navigate the shuttle. Poor Flight Officer Patel had been forced to stop several times on the way back at Zaeed's assistance, so that he could pick up alcohol, cigars, or something else. Shepard, who'd been too stuck on the information Din Korlack had provided, had done nothing to stop the mercenary from having his way.

Thus the trip back took twice as long as it should have.

Upon arriving back at _Normandy's_ , Shepard was surprised to see another shuttle, one of Asari make, hovering nearby.

 _"Commander! Your back! Finally!"_ Joker's voice spoke over the Kodiak shuttle's speakers. _"That shuttle just arrived five minutes ago and is asking to dock inside the Normandy's shuttle. Are we expecting guests?"_

"We are," Shepard replied. "Let them inside."

"Aye commander, rolling out the red carpet."

* * *

 **Inside the _Normandy SR-2_**

The Asari shuttle parked itself right next to Shepard's Kodiak, allowing the Human Spectre a moment to look it over. He noted that it was double the size of the _Normandy's_ Kodiaks, and didn't look like a military model. In fact, he was pretty sure that he'd seen this exact model being used by long range delivery companies.

The Asari shuttle's boarding ramp lowered, and Kala Uthanear stepped out.

"Spectre Uthanear," Shepard nodded and held out a hand.

"Shepard! Long time no see," the Asari Spectre smiled, taking his hand, and giving him a friendly clap on the shoulder. Her friendliness momentarily stunned Shepard. He was more used to his fellow Spectres being all business. He hadn't met that many sure, but the ones that he had met: Nihilus, Bau, Vasir, Saren, had all been professionals to the core.

By comparison, Kala Uthanear seemed...almost too laid back.

"So this is the famous _Normandy_ huh?" the Asari said, taking an appreciative look around the hangar. "Or...at least a copy of it. Kind of salty that I don't get to be on the original, the one that hunted down Saren and delivered the final K.O to _Sovereign_. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, am I right?"

"Uh...I suppose," said Shepard.

Kala smirked. "L-O-L Shepard, relax a bit. I know you and the Council aren't exactly best buds, but don't worry. I ain't here to spy on you. Believe it or not, some of us Spectres joined up to do good, ya know?"

"That's...good to here." Before he could say anything else, Kala noticed Patel assisting Zaeed in moving his 'supplies'.

"Oh-em-gee!" Kala clasped her hands together like an excited fan girl, "Is that Zaeed Massani?"

"Yeah, you know him?" asked Shepard.

"Totally, but only from reading the articles about him in Badass Weekly. I had no idea he was working for you! Do you think he'll give me an autograph?"

"I'm sure he would if you just ask," said Shepard.

"Neat-o! Bee-ar-bee!" Kala Uthanear _skipped_ over to Zaeed, covering an incredible amount of distance very shortly with the assistance of Biotics that propelled her farther with every jump.

As Shepard watched the Asari Spectre interact with the grouchy old mercenary, he couldn't help but feel a smile of amusement spread itself onto his face.

* * *

"Jesus Christ, she's like a walking meme," Zaeed grumbled.

"A what?"

"A meme! Don't you know what a meme is Shepard?"

"...no."

"Fuck, you sure you're younger than me?"

Shepard chose not to answer as Kala returned from assisting Patel in offloading the rest of Zaeed's stuff.

"Keep it real Patty!" Kala waved to the flight officer. She turned Shepard. "You're lucky to have such a cutie working for you Shep. If only she was into aliens," Kala gave an overly dramtic sigh of disappointment, but then perked back up. "Oh well! Plenty of fish in the sea and all that."

Shepard chuckled. "You didn't have to help with that. But thank you."

"Pfft, it's all good. I like helping people, plus with my Biotics it was a snap," Kala snapped her fingers, and a bottle of brandy that she'd taken from Zaeed's supplies floated to her open hand, assisted by a blue aura. She caught it, opened it, and threw her head back to take a long gulp.

"Aaaaaahhhhh," she wiped her mouth. "You've got good taste Mr. Massani."

Zaeed frowned. "Fuck kid, don't call me Mr. Massani, makes me feel like an old geezer. Zaeed will do just fine."

"Okay Zaeed. So, when we shipping out to Tuchanka?"

Shepard rubbed his neck. "Actually, to be honest, I'm not totally sure that we are."

Kala's seemingly permanent smile faltered slightly. "What? Why not?"

"Some new information recently came up. Do you mind waiting a bit? I need to bring the rest of my crew up to date as well, it'll be more convenient to just explain it to everyone."

Kala shrugged. "Sure, I'm in no rush."

* * *

"Oh-em-gee, is this a Turian elevator?! We're gonna be stuck in here for a thousand years," Kala groaned and slumped her shoulders. Shepard and Zaeed stared at the odd Asari Spectre with undisguised bewilderment.

As it turned out, the elevator ride lasted for less than a minute. They arrived on Deck 2 and stepped out into the CIC.

 _"Welcome back Commander,"_ EDI's voice spoke over the speakers, her voice stiff and robotic.

"Thank you EDI, can you call everyone to gather in the Communications Room in 5 minutes?"

 _"Of course Commander. Sending messages now."_

"Ooooooh, onboard ship VI assistant? Fancy, very fancy," said Kala admiringly.

Shepard grunted an agreement. He had admittedly almost forgotten that AI were a source of fear and paranoia in Citadel space. After so much time spent on the new _Normandy_ hunting the Collectors, Shepard and the crew had come to trust EDI, and AI, with their lives. She had become a usual part of his and everyone else's lives.

He couldn't be sure how Kala, a Council Spectre, would react. Though she had surprised him quite a bit so far, until he could be sure, Shepard would have EDI maintain the façade of being a highly advanced VI program.

"Love the voice choice, very sexy," Kala further commented. "You think I can get a copy for...research purposes?"

"I'll...see what I can do," Shepard said cautiously.

"Thanks Shep, you're a real bro," Kala then gave him a hard but friendly punch to the shoulder. As the three of them started to walk to the Communications Room, Kala asked, "so I heard you've got a Justicar onboard?"

Shepard nodded. "That's right. Her name is-"

"Commander," Samara gracefully stepped around the corner, having just taken the stairs up to the 2nd deck. "It is good to see..."

The Justicar's sentence trailed off as she saw the Asari Spectre standing next to Shepard. Her eyes widened marginally and her jaw dropped ever so slightly. The momentary loss of Samara's self control passed quickly, almost too quickly for Shepard and Zaeed to have ever noticed that it had been gone.

"Kala..." Samara said softly.

"Mentor..." Kala straightened her stance and reverently bowed at the waist. Shepard hadn't known the Asari Spectre for very long, but her sudden shift in attitude surprised him almost as much as Samara being surprised by anything. "I am glad to meet you again mentor. It has been so long. I have missed you."

"I have missed you as well little Kala," Samara replied regally, "you have...grown so much."

Kala giggled. "Well, that's what happens after 50 years."

Without warning the Asari Spectre abandoned all formality and rushed forward to wrap the Justicar in a tight hug. Samara once again nearly seemed to lose her ice cool composure, but just as before, she quickly collected herself. Tentatively, she wrapped a single arm around Kala.

After a moment Kala released her hold on Samara, who looked oddly relieved.

"Soooooo...I take it you two know each other?" asked Shepard.

Kala nodded. "Yup!"

"Kala was my pupil for a time," Samara explained. "I taught her how to hold a blade and how to properly utilize her Biotics."

"Heh, that's an understatement, I was total garbage before Matriarch Samara taught me," Kala bashfully rubbed the back of her neck. "We have to catch up afterwards. So much has happened since we last spoke."

"If time permits, I would be happy to," said Samara. "But first I believe that the Commander needs us in the Communications Room."

Shepard nodded. "After you ladies."

* * *

 **6 hours after the meeting at the Black Box**

 **The Presidium...**

Traffic was thick around the Tiberius Towers, like it always was at this time. It was more than a man should have to deal with after a long day of meetings and speech drafting. But thanks to his driver, Anderson could simply sit back in his seat and enjoy a smooth ride back to his apartment. He was grateful for the quiet and isolation provided to him by his car. As humanity's representative on the Council there was rarely a moment in his day when he wasn't speaking or being spoken to.

Knowing that this moment of silence was fleeting at best, Anderson chose to relax and lean back into the rich leather of his seat. As former military he wasn't big on luxury. But he had to admit that the features offered by the Z40M aircar were quite nice.

"Long day sir?" asked Griffin, one of Anderson's bodyguards, a stocky yet burly man who sat in the front passenger seat.

"They all are," Anderson replied half heartedly.

His other bodyguard, a woman with dark skin and sharp features named Mari, turned in her seat next to him to look out through the back window. A moment later, Anderson heard what she was looking at when the distinct sound of a C-SEC patrol cruiser's sirens filled his ear.

"This aircar has an IFF tag identifying it as belonging to a Councilor," said Mari. Anderson noticed that her hand had fallen down to the pistol on her hip. All members of his protection detail were former Alliance special forces and took his safety very seriously. A little too seriously sometimes, Anderson noted with amusement. In all likelihood, the officer driving the cruiser was a rookie who'd forgotten to use their vehicle's scanner.

"What do you want to do sir?" asked his driver, a tall rugged Irish man with blonde hair the others referred to as Delaney.

"Pull over, it shouldn't take long once I they see who I am," said Anderson.

"Yes sir." Delaney smoothly slid the aircar out of traffic and came to a stop. A moment later the C-Sec cruiser pulled up next to them with its sirens turned off. Anderson pressed a button on his seat's armrest that lowered the tint of his window, allowing the officers to see his face. A few moments passed and the C-Sec cruiser had yet to do the same. Anderson wondered if maybe the officer inside was panicking, trying to figure out how they were going to explain to their superiors that they had pulled over a Citadel Councilor.

"Sir, another one is pulling over," said Griffin. A second C-Sec cruiser had exited the stream of traffic and pulled up to the other side of the aircar.

"Probably just wondering why a Councilor's car was pulled over," Mari suggested. Anderson noted that she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Maybe it's a slow day?" Delany added.

A few more seconds passed and nothing happened. A tiny bell in the back of Anderson's mind started ringing, telling him that something about this wasn't right. Neither car had lowered the tint on their windows yet, and neither seemed to be making any effort to communicate with them. A quick glance around and Anderson could tell the others were thinking the same.

"Sir?" Delany asked.

"Stay put," said Anderson, "let's not jump to conclusions just-"

Suddenly the aircar's collision alarm started to blare. _"INCOMING COLLISION! INCOMING-"_

The rest was lost as something smashed into the aircar's roof and sent them plummeting downwards. Anderson's entire world was sent spinning. If it weren't for his seat belt he would have been thrown all over the interior and probably have broken his neck twice.

"DELANY!" Griffin screamed.

"I'm on it! I'm on it!" There was a harsh jerk as the driver worked the controls, and everything suddenly came to a halt. Anderson's stomach was still doing somersaults when the aircar finally stabilized, but his old zero-grav training quickly kicked in and he soon calmed his nausea.

"Sir! Are you alright?" asked Mari as she checked him over.

"I'm fine," Anderson brushed her off. "What the hell just hit us?"

The councilor turned to look out the back window and was given his answer. An armored shuttle, the same used by C-SEC's tactical squads to break through building walls. The large boxy vehicle was bearing down on them like a charging bull. If it hadn't been for the reinforced frame of Z40M, Anderson had no doubt the first collision would have snapped the vehicle in half.

It seemed that the driver of the armored shuttle was still intent on making that possibility a reality.

"GET US OUT OF HERE!" Griffin ordered.

Delany smashed his foot down on the accelerator and the Z40M zoomed forward. Griffin and Mari pulled out their weapons, Mari also held out a belt to Anderson.

"You better put this on sir," she said. Anderson took the belt and fastened it around his waist before activating its kinetic shield generator. There was a flicker of light around his body, indicating the shield was working.

"God damn it!" Griffin cursed at the Z40M's holographic dashboard. "Our signal is being scrambled! I can't call for help!"

"This is the Presidium, all we have to do is fly around a bit and C-SEC camera or patrol cop should spot us," said Delany.

As if summoned by the Irish man's words, two C-SEC cruisers pulled up alongside the aircar. But then their windows lowered, revealing CAT6 commandos armed with assault rifles. The mercenary commandos opened fire, showering the Z40M with accelerator fire. Spider web like cracks appeared all over Anderson's window and the sound of metallic rain striking the outside filled his ears.

The Z40M's armored exterior and bullet proof windows were doing their job, but eventually they would break.

"Everybody hold on!" Delany threw the Z40M into a series of evasive swerves and spins in an effort to shake their pursuers. But the drivers of the false or maybe stolen C-Sec cruisers were just as skilled and kept pace with their target easily. The CAT-6 commandos continued to pepper the Z40M's trunk with their weapons.

"We got another C-SEC cruiser 12 o'clock!" Delany announced.

"A real one?!" Mari asked.

"Not sure!"

A missile suddenly fired from the window of one of the oncoming cruiser, answering Mari's question.

"INCOMING!" Delany jerked the aircar's wheel and threw it into a leftward barrel roll. The missile whooshed past the Z40M and detonated a moment later. The explosion did not go unnoticed by the surrounding traffic. Suddenly civilian drivers were breaking off from their well organized routes to get away from the danger.

Anderson saw a number of collisions, most of which would undoubtedly be fatal. Under his breath the councilor cursed CAT6 for placing innocents in the crossfire. The fake C-Sec cruiser from which the missile had been fired performed a sharp turnaround and joined the other two in pursuit of the Z40M. Soon Anderson spotted the barrel of a missile launcher poking out from its open passenger window.

"We've got a heavy weapon coming up on our right!" Mari announced. "The armor isn't going to hold against that!"

"Shoot him!" Griffin barked.

Mari lowered her window and the noise of the world outside came roaring in: rushing wind, gun fire, humming engines, and honking horns nearly overloaded Anderson's ears. Leaning out through the window, Mari fired her pistol at the mercenary holding the missile launcher. Most of her shots hit the cruiser itself, which at these speeds and distance was already amazing. But unfortunately it wasn't enough.

The CAT6 commando holding the missile launcher remained cool under pressure and fired off another shot.

"WE'VE GOT ANOTHER!" Mari screamed, ducking back inside just as Delany started evasive maneuvers. The missile shot passed Anderson's window, missing by a margin so small that he could have reached out and touched it if he wanted to. Thankfully it must have been set to impact detonation and not airburst, as the missile kept flying by and did not explode until it hit an unlucky airtruck in the rear.

"Where the hell is the real C-SEC?! Isn't anyone reporting this shit?!" Griffin demanded.

They probably thought the situation was already being handled by C-SEC, Anderson thought. CAT6, or whoever was pulling their strings, had gone to a lot of effort to replicate those C-SEC cruisers. There was a good chance that they had also managed to slice their way into C-SEC's communications and were currently denying the need for back up. C-SEC dispatch was probably under the impression that everything was being handled.

That would certainly explain why a cruiser with real C-SEC officers hadn't shown up yet. Only one thing to do.

"Get us to C-SEC headquarters!"

"Sir?" Delany asked.

"Do it!"

"Yes sir!"

Looking through a screen it would certainly seem like the fake cruisers were legitimate. But as usual, the truth would revealed once it landed on someone's front porch. Anderson just hoped that Delany's driving was good enough to let them live long enough to perform said landing.

"That guy with the missile launcher is back!" Mari shouted. Griffin pulled out his M-15 Vindicator rifle.

"I'll get him," he said.

* * *

The stolen C-SEC armored shuttle that had been used to dive bomb the Alliance Councilor's aircar trailed after the pursuit, but at the command of Cipher Nine it maintained a distance of 50 meters above the chase. From his vantage point looking out through the shuttle's open side door, the Imperial agent had a bird's eye view of the three false C-SEC cruisers chasing after the single Z40M aircar.

The driver of the Z40M was very good. Whoever they were, they had managed to pull the Z40M out of a spiraling descent after having over 50 tons hit their vehicle from above.

Adjusting his electrobinoculars, Cipher Nine saw the bodyguard sitting in the front passenger seat lower his window and lean out with a M15-Vindicator. No doubt he would attempt to kill the CAT6 commando leveling a missile launcher at the Z40M.

Cipher Nine couldn't allow that.

The agent put away his electrobinoculars and shouldered a D-20 PX sniper rifle, a weapon that had been nicknamed by the arms industry: "Silent Death". Cipher Nine brought the rifle's holographic scope up to his eye and placed the crosshairs directly onto the bodyguard's head. As he prepared to take the shot, Cipher Nine saw the bodyguard's lips move. Having had much experience in reading mouth movements of several dozen different species, the Imperial Agent knew exactly what the bodyguard was saying.

 _"I've got you now."_

"No, you don't," whispered Cipher Nine.

The Imperial Agent held his breath.

Estimated how much lead he would need.

Then gently squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Anderson saw a flash of red from outside. Then Griffin's body lifelessly slumped down in the window frame, a smoking hole in his head.

"Jesus! Sniper!" Mari screamed.

"Pull him in! Pull him in!" Delany ordered.

Mari dropped her pistol onto the aircar floor and reached over to try and haul Griffin's body back inside. Anderson understood their desire to recover their comrade's body. But while they did that, CAT6 was preparing another missile. Instantly, the Councilor's military training kicked in. He quickly scooped up Mari's dropped pistol, a Carnifex, lowered his window, and took aim.

"Sir! What the hell are you doing!" Delany demanded.

It was a dumb move, Anderson had to admit, especially with that sniper out there. But if he didn't do something, they'd all be dead soon enough. And frankly, he just didn't have it in him to sit by and do nothing.

Anderson lined up the pistol's iron sights with the helmeted head of the CAT6 commando holding the missile launcher. The Councilor entered what N7's often called:"the zone", a moment of perfect focus when it felt like nothing else existed but the sights of a soldier's gun and his target.

The Carnifex in Anderson's hand boomed twice. A moment later the Councilor was rewarded with a flash of light, indicating overloaded shields, followed by a spray of blood. The CAT6 commando fell out of the false C-SEC cruiser, his body soon becoming lost in the air traffic below.

Not bothering to celebrate the minor victory, Anderson quickly pulled himself back inside the Z40M, and raised his windows.

* * *

"Nice shot," Cipher Nine commented to himself quietly. Councilor Anderson's file had not lied, the man had kept his skills with a firearm sharp despite being trapped behind a desk for the past two years.

But the man had made a fatal flaw in performing that impressive double tap. He'd given Cipher Nine a glimpse inside of the Z40M. The Imperial Agent couldn't see through the vehicle's tinted windows or reinforced frame. But he now knew that the Councilor was sitting in the left back passenger seat.

The Agent watched as the Z40M made a sharp left turn and joined a new stream of aircars. Calmly, Cipher Nine shifted the crosshairs of his rifle onto the Z40M's back passenger window and placed them where the Councilor's head would be.

He sucked in his breath, and squeezed the trigger.

* * *

Anderson was pressed back into his seat as Delany hit the accelerator.

The simple act saved Anderson's life.

One moment later the Councilor saw another red flash, then felt a sudden spike of heat rush past his nose, followed by a scream. For a brief few seconds, Anderson's vision was filled with white spots which he quickly blinked away. When his eyes worked correctly again, he saw two things.

A smoldering hole in his window, big enough for him to fit a finger through, and Mari with a hole the same size punched through her shoulder.

"FUCK!" she screamed as she held the area of the wound.

"That sniper again?!" Delany demanded as he continued to struggle with losing their pursuers.

"That shot came from above!" said Anderson, "we need cover, get us under something!"

"Yes sir!"

* * *

Cipher Nine frowned as the Z40M dove downward and slid underneath one of the many skybridges that crisscrossed the presidium. He wasn't sure yet if he'd hit his target and without a visual line on the aircar, he wouldn't be able to confirm anything.

"Should we pursue?" asked his driver.

"No," Cipher Nine replied, then activated his communicator. "This is Cipher Nine to all hounds, flush them out."

* * *

"I'm fine now sir, it's not really that bad," Mari assured him. A liberal amount of medi-gel had been applied to the wound, but Anderson could tell she was lying. The woman just didn't want to come off as a burden.

"We'll get you some real help once we get to C-SEC HQ, just try and stay with us still then, that's an order."

"Yes sir," she nodded. Suddenly the aircar swerved, throwing both Councilor and bodyguard back into their seats.

"Hang on!" the driver yelled. The false C-SEC cruisers pursing them had managed to navigate their way through the dense stream of traffic. Their occupants lowered their windows and opened fire, once again pelting the backside of the Z40M with accelerator fire. In response, Delany pulled the aircar upwards, but the CAT6 drivers easily followed.

"Damn it, these guys are good. Hold on to your hats!" Delany jerked the wheel and sent the Z40M into a barrel roll that landed it in **oncoming traffic**.

 _"Alert! You are in oncoming traffic! Please-"_

"Shut up!" Delany switched off the vehicle's VI assistance. Horns blared, aircars swerved around them, and more than a few angry citizens lowered their windows to shout. Their CAT6 pursuers followed the Z40M into the airlane without hesitation. They were brave, Anderson had give them that.

Almost immediately, one of the fake C-SEC cruisers collided head first into an oncoming car trying to avoid the Z40M. Both vehicles went spinning out of control and plummeted to the streets below. It sickened Anderson to use civilians in such a way, but at this point it couldn't be helped. The mercs had made it very clear that they didn't care about innocent bystanders, so in a way this was a sort of ironic justice.

"ANOTHER MISSILE!" Mari shouted.

"Damn!" Delany put the Z40M into a dive and the missile passed over its tail a moment later, then hit and destroyed an expensive X3M luxury aircar.

Anderson felt his stomach churn. What if there had been children in that aircar? Or what if that aircar had been a gift to some 16 year old girl who had just wanted to take her present out for a spin? He push those thoughts out of his head, now wasn't the time. What he should be focusing on was staying alive so that he could make every one of these CAT6 bastards pay.

"We're coming up on a traffic intersection!" Delany announced. "Stay strapped in! I'm going to try something tricky!"

The Z40M ascended upwards towards an airlane for adjacent traffic. Normally merging into traffic for an adjacent airlane was done with predetermined exits programmed into the aircar's VI assistant. But with the VI assistant switched off, Delany would have to navigate the swarm of aircars manually.

But of course, so would their pursuers.

Anderson braced himself.

* * *

"Sir, we've lost two hounds," the pilot said.

Cipher Nine grunted. Two shuttles down and the target had yet to be flushed out. This was proving to be more difficult than he had predicted. But that was fine, the Agent liked a challenge, and all this destruction was keeping with Phase 2. It would have been easy to have just waited for the Alliance Councilor to arrive home and snipe him through the window. But that would have been too quiet for the Emperor's designs. This open pursuit of the Councilor in the middle of the Presidium was as important as the eliminating the Councilor.

The people on the Citadel needed to know they weren't safe, and so he'd chosen to attack the Councilor on his way back home. It would provide the perfect show for the Citadel's media outlets.

That, and Cipher Nine secretly wanted to give Anderson a fighting chance to escape.

He had spent months studying the man, he knew that Councilor David Anderson was a respectable individual. A veteran of the First Contact War, one of the top graduates from Grissom Academy, and probably the best operative to ever be a part of the N7 program. If not for that classified mission involving Khalee Aanders and Saren Arterius that had been spun into a ridiculous story that Anderson had been a Spectre candidate and blown his chances, Cipher Nine suspected that the Councilor would have become the first Human Spectre instead of Commander Shepard.

Cipher Nine didn't like killing respectable individuals, it left a bad taste in his mouth. But he had his orders and he followed his orders.

Still, the man deserved better than to be murdered in his bed. It was a foolish and impractical sentiment, one that Cipher Nine was currently regretting.

The Agent hadn't always been this way. Years ago the agent known as Cipher Nine had been willing to do anything that was required of him. It hadn't mattered how ugly the task, he had been willing because it would have been done in the name of the Empire. He had murdered many respectable individuals in their sleep, he'd cut their throats while they'd laid in bed, poisoned their drinks, or sniped them from afar while they were intimate with their loved ones.

And with every mission he completed, Cipher Nine had started to see more and more of himself in the ones he murdered.

Would there come a day when he too would be killed in his sleep, without ever being given a chance to save himself? The thought of dying so helplessly terrified him, despite the fact that he had long ago accepted it as a likely ending for his story.

Was that why he hadn't just killed Miranda Lawson when he'd had the chance. They hadn't needed to capture back on Kal-Riv. Once he'd taken a scan for his holo-disguise, he could have just shot her in the head. He should have just shot her in the head.

But he hadn't. He'd kept her alive, for "intelligence gathering" he had called it. In truth, Cipher Nine had thought that such an end for someone as accomplished as Miranda Lawson wouldn't have been right.

Cipher Nine let out a disgusted snort at his own thoughts. _Right_ , what was _right_ in this universe?

"The minister was right," Cipher whispered to himself. "I am getting soft."

"Sir! The last hound reports success!"

"Move us to intercept." Cipher Nine shouldered his D-20 PX, and placed his finger on the trigger.

* * *

It had been over surprisingly quickly.

One minute the front window had been filled with aircars. The next, nothing but the clear skies of the Citadel.

"Ha! Thank you Saint Mary!" Delany cried out.

"Oh shit! I can't believe we're alive," Mari said, apparently she'd closed her eyes.

Anderson looked out the back window and didn't see any of the fake C-SEC cruisers. They must not have made it through. Anderson allowed himself to fall into his seat and breath a sigh of relief. He noticed that his heart was beating hard inside of his chest. Back in his younger days, a car chase like this wouldn't have even caused his pulse to spike.

"I've gotten old," Anderson muttered.

Just as his heart started to slow to its normal beat, something smashed into the back of the Z40M, rocking Anderson against his seat belt. The Councilor looked out the back window and saw one of the fake C-SEC cruisers had rammed into their backside. The cruiser's front window had been shattered, revealing the squad of CAT6 commandos inside. The commando in the front passenger seat leveled an assault rifle and opened fire.

The back window held up against the stream of accelerator fire, but was gradually starting to break.

"Delany!" Mari screamed.

The Irishmen had already stomped his foot down on the accelerator. Once again Anderson was thrown back into his seat as the Z40M took off at top speed.

"How many?" asked Delany.

"Looks like its just the one...wait! Look!" Mari pointed out Anderson's window. The Councilor followed her finger and spotted the armored C-SEC shuttle. It's side door was open, revealing a single figure dressed in black, holding a rifle.

For a moment, Anderson could have sworn that he could feel the sniper's crosshairs resting between his eyes. Then the sniper seemed to have a change of heart, and shifted his aim to the front of the aircar.

Before Anderson could shout for Delany duck, a bolt of red crackling energy crossed the distance between the two vehicles. The bullet proof driver's window protecting Delany didn't even slow the shot. The red bolt burned through the material easily and went on to pierce through Delany's temple.

The man didn't even shudder. He just slumped forward onto the dashboard.

"Shit!" Mari leapt forward and tried to push Delany's body aside so she could grab the wheel. But it was too late.

They were going down.

* * *

Cipher Nine watched as the Z40M started to take a nose dive. Based on its trajectory it would likely land on one of the larger streets below. The crash would probably kill all occupants inside, probably.

He could have just shot Councilor Anderson in the head. The perfect shot had been right there.

But at the last moment, Cipher Nine had shifted his aim to the driver. He had given Councilor Anderson one last chance to fight back against the inevitability of death.

"Getting soft," Cipher Nine whispered.

"Orders sir?" asked the pilot.

"Track their descent," the Agent ordered. "The target isn't dead until we see the body."

* * *

Pain.

Anderson had almost forgotten what it had felt like.

He had tried to keep himself up to standards despite having a desk job. But nothing in a gym or a shooting range could quite compare to what one would encounter in a real combat situation. His body had gotten soft from a cushy life style. But his mind was still sharp, it still remembered all the training he'd been put through.

He remembered that pain was the body's way of telling you: "You're still alive, so get your ass up before you die!"

Anderson's eyes shot open and he took in a deep breath of air.

"Sir! Sir! Are you okay!" A voice said to his left. Anderson slowly turned to see a Salarian on the other side of the window. "Can you move? Are your friends okay?"

"I..." Anderson's voice came out as a whisper.

"Sir! Can you open the door?! I think the engine is smoking! We need to get you out before it blows!"

Anderson didn't respond. His arms felt horribly heavy when he tried to move them. _Come on Anderson!_ Eventually, after what felt like an hour of struggling, he managed to unbuckle his seat belt.

"Mari," he coughed, "can you...can you..."

Anderson finally got his first clear look at Mari. She'd smashed the side of her head against her window. He reached up to her neck and felt for a pulse, nothing. Her pistol was on the floor. Anderson scooped it up. No doubt that sniper would come around to confirm the kill soon.

"Sir! Please! Try to get the door open!" the Salarian banged on the window.

"Leave him man!" said another voice, "that car is about to blow!"

Struggling through the pain, Anderson unlocked his door and pushed it open. The Salarian on the other side reached in and helped the Councilor out of his seat. Anderson leaned on the thin alien as they walked away from the now burning wreckage of the Z40M. He was then guided to a nearby bench where the Salarian helped him sit down.

"Are you okay sir?"

"I...did...C-SEC?" Anderson asked breathlessly.

"I already put in the call," the Salarian assured him. "Look! They're already here."

Anderson looked up and saw a single C-SEC cruiser and a single armored C-SEC shuttle.

"Shit, that's not C-SEC."

"What?" The Salarian gave him a confused look.

"You better get out of here," Anderson advised as he stood up. "Thank you for your help."

"Hey! You can't go off with your injuries!" The Salarian protested. Anderson pushed the alien off and then aimed the Carnifex at him. The Salarian quickly backed off.

"Get out of here," Anderson said again, and this time the alien did as told.

The false C-SEC air vehicles were getting close now, no doubt they had already spotted him. He needed cover, somewhere to hole up and wait for the real C-SEC to come in and help. The problem was that Anderson was pretty sure he'd broken his ankle in the crash. Every step he took was another shot of pain up his leg.

He made quick scan of the area.

There were a few shops on this street, any one of them would do as a place to hole up. Anderson eventually settled for the convenience store because it was nearest. He painfully limped through the open entrance and told the young Turian behind the cash register to get out. When he refused, Anderson encouraged him by waving around his pistol.

Now he needed to prepare.

Anderson grabbed several bottles of cheap whisky and cracked open their tops. He took a quick swig from one to dull the pain of his injuries, then started tearing strips off of his uniform to stuff into the still full bottles. The last part of his improvised molotovs would require the lighter app from his Omni-tool. Anderson activated his Omni-tool, and was just about to activate said app when he received a transmission.

* * *

"Sir, our scanners are showing a signal coming from inside the store. We're also getting comms traffic on the C-SEC channels. They're coming sir."

"We must be outside the jamming field," Cipher Nine deduced. "Let's finish this quickly then. Set down, send the men in to kill him."

"Sir? Can you just snipe him and be-"

"I said set down," Cipher Nine repeated.

"Yes sir!"

This was a bad plan, and Cipher Nine knew it. If he wanted to, he could just have the shuttle hover outside the store and he could shoot the Councilor from afar. But part of his mission was to make a show of the Councilor's death. The Emperor and The Will wanted the citizens of the Citadel to know that they weren't safe, even in the heart of their civilization. And frankly, for the a man as accomplished as Anderson to go out via blaster shot from 100 meters away just seemed...anticlimactic.

That certainly wouldn't be the way that Cipher Nine would want to go out, if given the choice.

* * *

"Hello?!" Andereson answered his Omni-tool, surprised and relieved.

 _"Councilor Anderson! This is Executor Venari Pallin of C-SEC. Do you mind telling my why I am getting calls and reports that you are robbing a convenience store on the Presidium?"_

"It's been a long day Executor. I was attacked on my way home! My bodyguards are all dead! I took refuge in the convenience store but my attackers are closing in! They're using fake C-SEC shuttles!"

 _"What?! That's...understood. My nearest officers are just 5 minutes out. Do you think you can stay safe till then?"_

Anderson looked over the register counter and saw both the fake C-SEC cruiser and armored shuttle land outside. The cruiser doors opened and four CAT6 commandos stepped out. Like well trained soldiers they used their open doors both for cover and as a surface to hold up their weapons.

"Better make it sooner Executor! Otherwise you'll be putting your best detectives on an assassination investigation!" Anderson ended the call and prayed those officers got here soon. The armored shuttle's side door was already open, and Anderson spotted a figure dressed in black, with a hood and a mask obscuring his features. In his hand, the figure held a rifle of unfamiliar make. But Anderson knew who he was: the sniper.

"What are you up to?" Anderson asked. That sniper had proven himself an amazing shot when he'd bull's-eyed Delany earlier. Why didn't he just do the same with Anderson? It didn't matter in the end. If that bastard wanted the kill to be personal, then Anderson would give him just that.

Six more CAT6 commandos filed out from the armored shuttle's door and took position next to their comrades at the cruiser.

The sniper made a cutting motion with his hand, and they all opened fire.

Anderson ducked at the last moment as a tidal wave of accelerator fire crashed against his cover. Bottles in nearby fridges burst apart, packets of surgery and salty snacks were shredded, a stand of the latest magazine publications was torn apart and sent pieces of paper everywhere.

"Alright, come and get it!" Anderson picked up the first of his molotovs and chucked it as hard as he could. His first fiery missile flew true and broke directly on the hood of the fake C-SEC cruiser. The CAT6 commandos taking cover around the cruiser scattered.

The amount of incoming accelerator fire died down momentarily, long enough for Anderson to chuck another molotov. More of the mercenaries ceased fire to escape the flames. One mercenary wasn't fast enough and quickly caught fire. He immediately dropped to the ground and started to roll.

"AHHHHH! HELP! HELP!"

Anderson placed his pistol's iron sights on the man and ended his suffering with a double tap. He then grabbed another molotov and hurled it right at the sniper.

The fiery projectile soared through the air towards the man. Then all of a sudden the sniper snapped his weapon up and fired. Anderson's molotov exploded mid-air, scattering its payload short of the mercenary lines. Fearing for his head after that incredible display of marksmanship, Anderson quickly ducked down behind his counter.

"Where the hell is C-SEC?" Anderson cursed.

As if summoned by his words, a real C-SEC cruiser suddenly appeared overhead with its sirens blaring at full volume.

 _"ATTENTION! YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF CITADEL LAW! SURRENDER NOW OR WE WILL TAKE YOU BY FORCE!"_

* * *

Damn.

Cipher Nine hadn't expected C-SEC to come onto the scene this quickly. But that was alright, this was in line with the plan. A few dead cops would make Councilor Anderson's last stand all the more terrifying to the local populace. How safe would they feel when their own protectors couldn't even save one of the most important citizens on the Citadel? The Imperial Agent snapped up his D-20 PX, quickly sighted the C-SEC cruiser's driver, and fired.

The Salarian at the wheel died instantly.

A heart beat later, his Turian partner sitting shotgun died the same way.

The cruiser came to a crash on the street and dozens of citizens screamed with terror.

 _"Sir, sensors are pick up a lot of C-SEC coming our way. We're about to be swarmed."_

"Keep the engines running. Our mission will be complete soon enough," said Cipher Nine. Even as he said those words, he could see additional C-SEC cruisers appearing in the distance. Casually he sighted the driver of the closest one and put a blaster round through his head.

As he turned away, the C-SEC cruiser went into a nose dive and disappeared into the lower levels.

"All of you," the Agent gestured to his Imperial soldiers, disguised as CAT6, "deal with any more guests that we receive. The Councilor is mine."

* * *

 **C-SEC HQ**

This was bad.

A Citadel Councilor attacked and currently in danger.

A fire fight between Human mercenaries and his officers on the Presidium, in front of hundreds of citizens.

Bad perhaps, was an understatement. This was a catastrophe. Even if Councilor Anderson was saved and the mercenaries taken into custody, the fallout of this event would be far reaching. Pallin knew that the first head to roll off the chopping block would be his own if things were taken care of correctly.

Already he'd sent communications to the Black Box requesting assistance from any Spectres on the Citadel. Then he given orders to have the protection details of the other Councilors informed of the situation. He wasn't sure yet if this was an attack on just one Councilor or all of them. Just to be safe, he'd also sent squads of officers to put the Councilors in lockdown until the situation with Anderson was resolved.

Pallin poured himself a glass of dextro-brandy and downed it all in a single gulp.

Then his personal terminal informed him that he had an incoming call.

"Pallin here," he answered. "Please tell me that the mercenaries have been taken into custody and Councilor Anderson is safe and alive."

 _"I'm afraid not sir. The mercenaries have taken to using heavy weaponry to shoot down our cruisers before they can land. We may need to send in a heavy tactical squad."_

"Damn!" Pallin pounded a fist into his desk.

 _"There's more sir."_

"More?!"

 _"The message we sent to Councilor Tevos...we never received a reply."_

Pallin's blood turned to ice water. Tevos was arguably **the** most influential member of the Council. If she died on his watch...the Executor didn't even want to think about the panic it would cause among the Citadel's populace, not to mention the outrage from Thessia.

"I want Heavy-Tac squads sent to both locations yesterday! This is an alpha one priority! Do not let those Councilors die!"

* * *

Things had suddenly gone very quiet.

Andreson peeked over his cover, only to receive a boot to his face as the sniper leaped over the counter. The Councilor reeled and stumbled back a few steps before recovering and bringing up his pistol to shoot. He managed to fire off a single shot, one that the sniper somehow managed to dodge.

Faster than anything Anderson had ever seen, the Sniper crossed the distance between them, grabbed Anderson's Carnifex, pulled the weapon from his grasp, and delivered a kick to the Councilor's chest. The blow sent Anderson crashing into a set of snack shelves, but he quickly recovered and rushed the Sniper.

His opponent leveled the stolen Carnifex, only for Anderson to slice it in half with his already activated Omni-Blade. The Sniper tossed aside the now useless weapon and ducked underneath a second swing from Anderson's Omni-Blade. He then delivered three lightning fast knife hand strikes to Anderson's body, one to the solar plexus, one to the shoulder of the hand holding the blade, and one to the throat.

Anderson was completely stunned as he struggled with the pain and trying to breath. The hand holding his Omni-Blade suddenly drooped to his side uselessly. The Councilor didn't know it, but his opponent had struck a sensitive bunch of nerves and had rendered his arm unusable for the next hour. But Anderson wasn't ready to go down yet.

With a growl he charged the sniper shoulder first. The sniper had not expected Anderson to be so tenacious, as the Councilor's shoulder charge connected fully with him and sent him barreling back over the counter. Pressing the attack, Anderson leaped over the counter himself, grabbing a bottle of alcohol that hadn't been destroyed as he did.

As the sniper jumped back to his feet, Anderson assaulted him using the bottle like a club. He swung hard at his opponent's head, only for the sniper to bring his arm up at the last second. The bottle shattered uselessly, coating the sniper's long coat in alcohol but otherwise leaving him unharmed.

"Good try," the sniper said, speaking in a voice much softer than Anderson had expected.

A flash of silver was the only warning that Anderson had. On instinct built from decades of fighting experience he threw himself back. Pain spread across his chest. The sniper now held a silver humming knife, one that was already coated with Anderson's blood. The Councilor had no time to look at the shallow cut on his chest.

The sniper lunged forward knife first. Anderson side stepped and threw a quick flurry of jabs with his left, still usable, hand. The sniper easily blocked each of them, but was caught off guard when Anderson suddenly ducked his head down and charged. With every bit of strength he could muster, Anderson lifted the sniper off his feet and then slammed him back on to the ground. Then he rained a furious barrage of elbow strikes and hammer fists down on his opponent.

A foot struck Anderson in the gut, pushing him back. But he quickly recovered, fueled by rage and adrenaline, and charged right back. This time though, the sniper swept the Councilor's feet out from underneath him. Anderson was suddenly the one on his back. The sniper reversed the grip on his knife and brought it down.

"Gah!" Anderson rolled out of the way, and the sniper's humming silver blade sunk itself fully into the metal floor, cleaving through it as though it were little denser than foam.

Anderson came up to his feet and tried to kick the sniper, but his opponent was too fast. The sniper caught Anderson by the foot, and pulled free his knife, only to lacerate Anderson's calf muscle.

"A very good try," the sniper said, and released Anderson's foot.

Anderson saw a blur of black, then a flash of silver, before he felt the hot jab of pain in his stomach. He looked down and saw the knife buried to the hilt inside of him.

"You fought well David," the sniper said, speaking the Councilor's name in the same way a friend would. "I'm sorry that it had to come to this. But my masters have plans, and your in the way."

Anderson felt the cold blade leave his body as the sniper pulled it out. He expected to be left to fall to the ground, while the sniper left to escape. But to the Councilor's surprise, his killer stayed and gently guided him down to the floor. Anderson found himself confused by the sniper's actions. The man had clearly been intent on killing him, their fight had shown Anderson that much. But now, when it was all over, the sniper's actions seemed almost...remorseful.

"If it were up to me, you'd die peacefully," the sniper whispered softly into Anderson's ear. "But I'm afraid I can't wait for that."

The sniper raised his knife to deliver the killing strike. But before he did, he placed a hand over Anderson's eyes, blinding him to the world around him, and ensuring that the Councilor would not see his death coming.

"Goodbye Councilor Anderson."

Anderson clenched his teeth and braced himself for the end.

Then Anderson heard something unfamiliar.

A _snap-_ _hiss_ , followed by a powerful hum.

* * *

Cipher Nine's blade stopped just an inch from the Councilor's heart. His highly acute hearing had picked up a very familiar sound, one that he heard a thousand times before, one that should definitely not be heard on the Citadel.

Forgetting about the Councilor lying on the floor momentarily, Cipher Nine ran to the entrance of the store just in time to see a figure dressed in long brown robes come down from above and land in a crouch behind his men. In the figure's right hand was a lightsaber with a blade as blue as a clear day on Naboo.

Still concentrated on keeping C-SEC at bay, his soldiers hadn't noticed the figure in their midst until it was too late.

The Jedi, the figure could be nothing else, rushed up behind the soldier in the center of the formation and impaled the man through his back.

"What the-!" was all the man next to him said, before the Jedi cast a hand out and sent three of the CAT6 soldiers flying off the side of the street.

Fighting past his initial shock of seeing a member of an extinct order, Cipher Nine snapped up his rifle, sighted the Jedi, and fired three shots in quick succession. In a single fluid movement, the Jedi pulled their lightsaber free, whirled around, and easily deflected all three blaster bolts. The first two shots were redirected into the ground, the third was sent right back at Cipher Nine. The Agent executed a leftward combat roll, dodging the shot at the last possible moment.

"Men! Concentrate fire on the Jedi!" Cipher Nine ordered.

The remaining CAT6 soldiers obeyed the Agent's orders and shifted all of their fire upon the Jedi. Cipher Nine added his own fire to the mix the barrage. There were many ways to kill a Jedi, and Cipher Nine was familiar with all of them. The simplest and most common tactic was overwhelming fire power. Even a Jedi's supernatural reflexes and speed could be overwhelmed with enough guns.

Just one problem. Cipher Nine didn't have enough guns at his disposal.

The Jedi's lightsaber turned into a furious blue blur, intercepting every shot with graceful ease. Cipher Nine quickly realized that they were not dealing with just any Jedi, but most likely a master. That was bad. Jedi of master level were not easily beaten, even by an experienced Jedi hunter like himself.

As if to prove his thoughts, the Jedi suddenly dashed forward towards the last six CAT6 soldiers. They never stood a chance. Though their accelerator weapons fired solid slugs and kept them safe from shot deflection, none of the soldiers could have ever hoped to survive against the Jedi's speed.

In the blink of an eye three soldiers went down with burning gashes cut across their chests. By the time their bodies hit the street, the Jedi had already decapitated another soldier, and then kicked another one in the head so hard it snapped the poor man's neck like dry twig.

The last CAT6 soldier panicked and attempted to throw a grenade at the Jedi. Except when he tried to throw it, the grenade remained stuck in his hand.

"What?! I can't...I can't let go-" The grenade exploded, and the soldier ceased to exist.

"Damn," Cipher Nine muttered, now he had to kill this Jedi by himself.

The Jedi turned to him and Cipher Nine's mind went into overdrive, knowing that he had less than a second to react. In half a second the Jedi had strode across a distance of 10 meters. On sheer instinct built from years of fighting both Jedi and Sith, Cipher Nine threw himself backwards.

The tip of the Jedi's humming blue blade just barely missed the Agent's throat. But even as he avoided decapitation, Cipher Nine knew that the Jedi's backswing would not miss. They were too close and he wasn't nearly fast enough to get out of the way. 95% of the time close quarters combat between a non-force sensitive and a force sensitive ended in the force sensitive's favor. The 5% that ended in the non-force sensitive's favor could usually be attributed to thorough planning ahead.

Cipher Nine had not planned to meet a Jedi today.

But he wouldn't be an Imperial Cipher Agent if he allowed himself to be caught unprepared.

As the Imperial Agent backed away from the Jedi, his left hand came up from his belt and released a live flash grenade that detonated in-between them.

Cipher Nine's cybernetics immediately dimmed his vision to compensate for the increased brightness and filtered out the loud bang that would deafen the hearing of most organic ears. The Jedi recoiled and stumbled back, lacking the same cybernetics. In the brief flash of light provided by the flash grenade, Cipher Nine caught a glimpse of his opponent's features.

The Jedi was female, he had already guessed as much from her height and the way she moved. But he also saw dusky dark skin, stormy blue eyes, and blood red hair.

Cipher Nine suddenly realized which Jedi he was dealing with, and his pulse actually spiked for the first time in years.

Having confirmed that CQC would be guaranteed suicide, Cipher Nine chose to put as much distance between him and the Jedi as possible before she recovered. His choice soon revealed itself to be the right one, as the Jedi's backswing sheared through the space that Cipher Nine had occupied only moments before. Then she followed up with a blind overhead chop that would have cut the Agent down the middle, if not for the combat roll he executed to avoid it.

Needing to buy more time, the Agent whipped out his sidearm: a customized M-11 Suppressor that utilized a cool down system instead of thermal clips. He fired six shots from the hip, all of which the Jedi either _dodged_ or intercepted with her lightsaber. With his pistol venting heat, Cipher Nine returned it to its holster.

There was about 10 meters between them now, enough distance for him to do something besides run. Cipher Nine contacted the pilot of the armored shuttle.

"Take off and stay at a hover of 30 meters."

 _"Sir?"_

"Do it now."

 _"Yes sir."_

"There you are!" the Jedi said, fully recovered from the stun grenade and speaking for the first time since she'd arrived. Faster than Cipher Nine could react, she thrust out a hand towards him. The Imperial Agent was suddenly frozen in place by the affects of a Force Stun.

Ordinarily that would be the end of it. Once caught in a Force Stun, the only way to break it was with the Force, a skill that Cipher Nine had no access to. The only other way to break from a Force Stun was to either wait it out or break the concentration of the Jedi whose hold you were caught in.

Thankfully, Cipher Nine had back up and could still move his mouth.

"Someone fire on the Jedi. Preferably soon," the Agent ordered with incredible calm.

The false C-SEC armored shuttle turned its open door towards the Jedi. One of the soldiers who had stayed on board brought out the shuttle's swing out heavy accelerator cannon, targeted the Jedi, and opened fire. The deluge of accelerator fire would have shredded apart any other target, but just as with the accelerator fire from the soldiers before, the Jedi formed a brilliant barrier in front of her using her lightsaber.

Not a single accelerator round touched the Jedi. Even as she continued to deflect the incoming rounds, she reached a hand out towards the flaming fake C-SEC cruiser, the one set alight earlier by Anderson's molotov, and grasped it with the Force. With her attention diverted, the hold on Cipher Nine vanished.

The Agent managed to dive out of the way just in time. Iris swept her outstretched hand up towards the floating armored shuttle and the flaming C-SEC cruiser followed. The unoccupied vehicle smashed nose first against the underside of the shuttle and sent it careening away.

Cipher Nine took out his M-11 again and fired six dead accurate shots using one hand while prepping two grenades with the other.

As expected, the Jedi easily blocked all six shots. By then Cipher Nine had hurled the first grenade at her. With almost insulting casualness, the Jedi swept her lightsaber like a wand, and redirected the flight of the grenade over the side of the street where it detonated harmlessly. Cipher Nine hadn't really expected either attack to do any damage. He also didn't expect to win against a Jedi Master, let alone the Jedi Order's Battle Master, when dropped into a fight cold like this. But maybe, if he played things smart, he'd be able to get away alive and fulfill his mission.

Cipher Nine returned his M-11 back to its holster, and started to clap.

"Bravo. You are everything your reputation makes you to be Jedi Master Iris Kai."

Iris was immediately on guard, dropping to a standard Form V: Djem So stance. She'd dealt with Imperial Intelligence agents before, and she knew just how tricky they could be.

"What's your game assassin? Why are you trying to murder the Alliance Councilor?" she demanded in a voice that Cipher Nine found appealingly raspy.

"I wouldn't be a good agent if I answered those kinds of questions would I? Besides, you have more important matters to deal with besides interrogating me, like keeping the Alliance Councilor alive."

Iris curled her lips into a dangerous smirk. "You really think that you can get past me?"

Cipher Nine shrugged. "I don't know, I did just throw a grenade into that store, soooo..."

The Jedi's eyes widened as she realized that she'd been outplayed. At the same time Cipher Nine pulled out his grapple spike launcher and fired it up at the returning armored shuttle. The grapple spike stuck firmly into the shuttle's underside. Cipher Nine gave Iris Kai a one fingered salute before he was yanked off his feet as the shuttle began to fly away.

Iris briefly hesitated. She could either try to stop the Imperial Agent from getting away, or she could save the Alliance Councilor. There really was no choice, not for a Jedi who prioritized saving lives over taking them.

Using the Force to enhance her speed, Iris blurred towards the store. If she could just find the grenade before it went off, she could toss it out and save Councilor Anderson. But just as Iris stepped into the store, the grenade went off. A wave of fire and shrapnel nearly consumed her, but at the last moment Iris stretched out a hand and formed a barrier with the Force.

Nearly the entirety of the small store was destroyed by the explosion. The only part of it that had been saved was the piece Iris had been standing on, which had remained untouched thanks to her intervention.

"No!" Iris cursed and angrily stomped her foot, cracking the piece of floor she had inadvertently saved.

She had been too slow, and now Councilor Anderson was dead.

* * *

Anderson's vision had gone dark, a sure sign that he was almost at death's door if not already there. But he had still managed to see what had happened outside of the store. Someone, and he hadn't been able to make out who, had fought the sniper and forced him into a retreat. Even though all Anderson had been able make out were flashes of light and couple blurry movements, he had still been able to tell that it had been one hell of a fight.

It wouldn't stop him from dying, but it felt good to know that in the end his opponent hadn't gotten the last laugh.

That notion had been quickly ended when he'd seen the sniper toss a grenade into the store, and watched it roll towards him.

Knowing that there was nothing he could do, Anderson had closed his eyes, and waited for death to take him.

He had heard the deafening sound of the explosion and felt the heat wash over him. The Councilor had felt no pain, which he assumed meant that all of his nerves had been vaporized.

But then Anderson had felt something press against the wound on his stomach, and the jab of pain that followed made his eyes open. His vision was still blurry, but Anderson could see that there was a figure crouched over him, one clothed almost entirely in white.

Was this...an angel?

Anderson had never been particularly religious, though he had been brought up in a religious family. Was he seeing one of God's angels, here to pass judgement on him? If so, Anderson had a sinking feeling that the next thing he'd see wouldn't be a set of big pearly gates atop a bed of fluffy white clouds. He hadn't exactly been a saint his whole life after all.

"Please stay still," the 'angel' said in the voice of a man. "The wound is rather bad."

It was then that Anderson noticed the 'angel' had put his hand over the knife wound left by the sniper. Oddly enough, the pain of the injury had started to disappear completely. In fact, Anderson could swear that he felt a sort of comforting warmth originating from where the wound was. Then he realized the comforting warmth was real, as it spread out through his whole body.

Before long the pain Anderson had felt from the numerous bruises, cuts, and other injuries he had sustained over the past hour suddenly disappeared. Even his vision returned back to normal and he was able to finally make out the 'angel'.

The 'angel' was in fact a man. One with fair skin, blonde hair, and had a disarmingly handsome face that would have been fit to be worn by one of God's heavenly servants. He wore a set of hooded white robes that were of a design that Anderson could not recognize, though frankly he didn't expect to as he was never big on fashion. Most notable was the strip of white cloth that covered the man's eyes. The man seemed to see Anderson well enough, so the Councilor wondered if maybe the cloth was thin enough to be seen through.

"There, you should be alright now," the man said.

"I.." Anderson felt around the area that he'd been stabbed, and was extremely surprised to find that it didn't hurt at all. "But...I was...who are-"

The man touched a finger to Anderson's forehead.

"Sleep."

* * *

As if hit by a tranquilizer dart, the Alliance Councilor closed his eyes and began to slumber peacefully.

"Is he okay?" Iris asked as she came up behind Trey.

"He will live," the Barsen'thor assured her as he stood up. "He won't wake to find himself completely unscathed, but he's definitely in no danger of dying."

Iris let out a relieved sigh. "That's good."

Trey grunted his agreement. "What about the assassin?"

The Jedi Battle Master bit her lip nervously. "He...got away."

The Barsen'thor turned to her. "What?!"

"He got away okay! I had to let him ago because I thought I needed to save the Councilor," she gestured to Anderson. "I wouldn't have had to if you'd just agreed to come with me to start with."

Trey pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is bad. This is specifically why I knew we shouldn't have gotten involved."

"Shouldn't have gotten involved? Trey, we saved this man's life."

"And in doing so, we may very well have doomed every soul on this station. If that Imperial assassin manages to report back to his masters that a Jedi is on the Citadel, The Wrath of the Sith Empire will fall upon this station."

Iris crossed her arms. "Let him come, I've got a score to settle with that murderer."

"Calm your thoughts Iris, revenge is not the Jedi way," said Trey.

"I know," she said, then muttered, "but justice is."

Trey did not voice his exasperation with Iris as he walked past her and out of the destroyed convenience store. He took a look around the carnage that had been wrought upon this small street on the Presidium. This was bad. He hadn't been exaggerating before when he had said that as soon as word got out that there were Jedi on the Citadel, the Empire would immediately do everything in its power to find and destroy them. Which had been exactly why he had wanted to stay under the radar. Iris however, as always, had been restless and against patiently waiting. She had always been this way, and the near destruction of their Order had only made her worse.

"We need to hide this evidence of our presence," said Trey. He stretched out a hand, and used the Force to push the bodies of the CAT6 commandos over the edge of the street. It was distasteful to do such a thing to the dead, but in this case it was also necessary. The lightsaber wounds on their bodies would puzzle C-SEC, but would immediately alert any of the Sith's spies.

"Now what?" asked Iris.

"Now we contact Tharan and Holiday, maybe they can find that Imperial spy before its too late."

Iris nodded with satisfaction. "Good, for a moment I thought you were going to suggest waiting around again."

This time Trey did voice his exasperation, and let out a heavy sigh. Iris was his best friend, but sometimes she severely tested his Jedi patience.

"Let's just go," he said. "There's not a moment to waste. If we don't stop that assassin from contacting his masters, it will mean the end of the Citadel."

* * *

 **Meanwhile at Councilor Tevos's apartment...**

 _"Must you take so long?"_ asked SCORPIO.

"Don't rush me shiny," Kaliyo growled. "Demolition work is like gambling. No point in doing it if you don't go big."

While she spoke the Rattataki woman pressed several runes on a datapad. The screen turned green, confirming that all the explosives that she had placed around the apartment had been linked to the detonator she carried. A smug smile passed Kaliyo's lips, since she'd come to this weird Galaxy, she'd been ordered to keep a low profile. Kaliyo hated taking orders, and she hated keeping a low profile.

It felt good to finally be allowed to do something she liked. Blowing things up had always given her the tingles. But today, she got to blow up somebody important and introduce a little anarchy into this nauseatingly clean and ordered space station. The fact that she was going to get paid for this job was icing on the cake, and went a long way towards making up for the past several years.

"Mmmmf mmmm mmmmf!" Councilor Tevos screamed through her gag as the several detpacks that had been placed at her feet suddenly started to blink red.

Kaliyo took a moment to enjoy the Asari councilor's terror. After what they'd been forced to go through to get her, it was a true pleasure to see the look on the Asari's face.

Defeating the apartment's electronic security system had been fairly easy. SCORPIO had simply plugged herself into the building's system and shut down all the alarms, locks, lights, and cameras. Briefly, Kaliyo had felt the sting of jealously from watching the droid make child's play out of the building's security suite.

With the apartment's electronic defenses dealt with, all they had to do was deal with the Councilor's protection detail, which would be a challenge onto itself. Ten veteran Asari commandos was nothing to sneeze at. In addition to her bodyguards, Tevos herself had been fairly skilled with her biotics.

When the lights went out, not a single one of the Asari commandos had panicked. Quickly and professionally, they'd carried out preassigned duties. Half their number swept the apartment for intruders while the other half escorted Councilor Tevos to a panic room.

Using thermal vision provided by their helmets, the commandos that had been sent out to sweep searched thoroughly. Their mistake ultimately had been their reliance on technology to defeat the dark. As a non-organic, SCOPRIO was capable of lowering her heat levels to the point that she would be indistinguishable from a rock or shelf. With disdain similar to crushing bugs, SCORPIO had quickly snatched away the group's rear guards and delivered lethal amounts of voltage to their systems, instantly stopping their hearts.

Doctor Lokin had killed the rest, rather messily too. Using the claws granted to him by his rakghoul form, he'd climbed the walls and latched onto the ceiling like a spider. When the Asari had stepped beneath him, he'd fallen on them and torn them apart.

The rest of the protection detail was quickly alerted to the death of half their numbers thanks to the monitoring system in each of their helmets. Their leader decided to prioritize the safety of the Councilor over revenge, which was smart. The remaining five commandos locked themselves inside the panic room with the Councilor where there was a secret elevator that would take them to a private landing pad, where a emergency escape shuttle was located.

Kaliyo wished that she could see the surprise on the commandos faces, when the elevator door had opened up and they saw the explosive surprise waiting for them.

The bomb had been low yield, compared to what Kaliyo usually made, and had only taken out two of the commandos. The rest and Tevos herself were left dazed by the shockwave. By then SCORPIO had cracked the security code on the panic room's door. Then the three assassins had stepped in and casually executed the remaining commandos.

Tevos they kept alive. They had plans for her.

Kaliyo had moved in to secure the Asari Councilor with a pair of binders. Then suddenly she'd been sent flying by a surprise Throw. Tevos had then stood up batted both Lokin and SCORPIO aside with her Biotics, the confined spaces of the panic room ensured the two had little room to maneuver and avoid the attack. Kaliyo would have laughed if not for the pain in her left shoulder, which she had smashed against a hard metal wall.

After blowing away her attackers, the Councilor had made a dash for the exit. She'd made it a single step out the door when Kaliyo tagged her in the back with a stun-shot from her blaster pistol.

They'd tied the unconscious Asari Councilor to one of her dining room chairs, did what they needed to do with a holo-camera, and then went about preparing to sanitize the area.

"Alright, all the charges are set. Pretty soon, this entire floor and the four below it will be nothing but a burning wreck," Kaliyo announced.

"Mmmmmf!" Tevos screamed.

"Excellent work Kaliyo," said Lokin, back to his Human form, as he went over the footage of the holo-camera. "I think we have enough recorded for our purposes."

 _"Three squads of C-SEC heavy tactical units have just landed outside the front door, and another two are about to land on the roof,"_ SCOPRIO announced, her eyes glowing bright.

"Time to leave then," Lokin said cheerily.

As the other two left, Kaliyo walked over to the Councilor and removed her gag.

"You'll never get away with this! Do you hear me! My people will hunt you down like varren!" the Asari spat.

Kaliyo mockingly patted Tevos's cheek. "It's cute that you think so. Now why don't you be a good little damsel in distress and scream nice and loud."

"What?"

"I said..." Kaliyo shot the Councilor in the foot, "...scream!"

Tevos screamed.

* * *

 **C-SEC HQ**

"Status update?" asked Pallin as soon as he answered the call coming from his personal terminal.

 _"Uh...yes sir."_

"Well? Out with it! Was Councilor Tevos safely ecured?"

 _"Sir. 2 minutes ago, Heavy-Tac Team 1 landed onsite and entered the apartment building's lobby. Team 2 landed on the roof 30 seconds later. Team 2 is then believed to have heard shots fired, followed by loud screaming, presumably the Councilor's."_

Pallin dropped his head into his hands. "Spirits of Damnation! She was injured?!"

 _"No sir, she's...Councilor Tevos is dead."_

Pallin leapt to his feet, knocking his chair over. "WHAT?!"

 _"As is Team 2."_

* * *

From the back seat of Councilor Tevos's emergency escape shuttle, Kaliyo watched the burning husk of the building's top five floors collapse in on itself. Already emergency fire services were arriving on the scene and attempting to douse the flames. Kaliyo's already satisfied smile grew wider with the knowledge that they'd have to expend hundreds of gallons of water to put out the fires, thanks to the special mix she'd used in the explosives.

"Doctor to Cee-Nine," Lokin said from the front passenger seat. "Primary target eliminated. Primary objective also achieved. Councilor Tevos is dead, and just about everyone in the Presidium can see her grave."

"Like I said," Kaliyo leaned back into her seat. "Burn down the Citadel."

* * *

 **AN:**

 **Oh my god that took forever to write!**

 **Okay, everyone put down your torches and pitchforks. Let me just start by saying that I am really sorry this took two months. Originally I just wanted to take a small break from writing this story to pursue other projects, check my profile if you want to know what projects. But then work started sucking up all my energy, again, and I got really lazy.  
**

 **Then I hit some writers block.**

 **Then I just didn't feel satisfied with the chapter so I rewrote it like twice.**

 **I'm still not totally okay with it, but I feel like you guys have waited long enough. Hopefully the chapter was enjoyable to read.**

 **We got a lot of time with C9 this chapter. I know not everyone loves my interpretation of the Agent, but hopefully it doesn't ruin the chapter for you. Also yes, the Jedi are starting to get more and more involved. We'll learn more about them as time goes on, so for those of you not onboard with them yet, I humbly ask that you wait and see for a little bit.**

 **For those who believe that too many people on the "good guy" side are dying too quickly. The Sith Empire has had 5 years to prepare for this, while the Mass Effect galaxy doesn't even know the Empire exists. But don't worry, the Mass Effect galaxy will get their victories eventually.**

 **That's all for now, I will try my best to get the next chapter out sooner.**


	20. Chapter 14 part 1: Investigation

**Star Wars is owned by _Lucas Arts Ltd_ and _Disney_. Mass Effect is owned by _EA_ and _BioWare_.**

* * *

 **"I'm back!" - Arnold Schwarzenegger, Terminator 3**

 **It's been a long time, so no answers for past reviews. But basically, I'm still alive and so is this story.**

* * *

 **Mass Effect: Shadow of the Sith**

 **Chapter 14 part 1– Investigation**

* * *

 _ **ACCESSING STREAM: CITADEL NEWS NET**_

 _ **LOADING...**_

 _"Welcome to Citadel News. I'm your host Emily Wong, bringing you the story live from the Presidium right outside C-SEC headquarters. Here a massive crowd of Citadel citizens has gathered. All are demanding answers from C-SEC Executor Venari Pallin, and who can blame them?_ _In just one night two Citadel Councilors, representatives of their entire species, were attacked._ _"_

 _"Thousands of citizens last night witnessed a high speed pursuit in the skylanes of the Persidium, supposedly the most crime free and safest place in the known galaxy._ _The chase ultimately culminated in the hospitalization of Alliance Councilor: **David Anderson** , whose whereabouts are at the moment, a complete mystery. Wherever he is, this reporter wishes him a very speedy recovery."_

 _[A CLIP OF THE CHASE FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF AN OBSERVER FROM A STREET BELOW IS SHOWN]_

 _"What is not a mystery is who the Councilor's assailants were. None other than the infamous mercenary company known as CAT6, whose members are known to be dishonorably discharged from the Alliance military. This has led some to wonder if perhaps the attempt on Councilor Anderson's life was politically motivated."_

 _"Adding to this shocking event, in the exact same night, the apartment of Councilor **Tevos** , representative of the Asari Republics, was bombed. The resulting explosion resulted in the deaths of over three dozen, among them the Councilor herself."_

 _[THE STREAM SWITCHES TO FOOTAGE OF THE APARMENT BUILDING LAST NIGHT, STILL ON FIRE FROM THE EXPLOSION]_

 _"It comes as no surprise then, that the majority of the crowd gathered outside of C-SEC headquarters are Asari. Some are angry, others are mourning, but all of them place the blame at Executor Pallin's feet. And who can blame them? Throughout her career as the Republics representative on the Council, Tevos was well loved by her people. Some Matriarchs have been quoted, calling her 'the most complete representation of our people in generations'."_

 _"The death of their Councilor has certainly struck deep with the Asari. On Thessia, plans for a funeral honoring Tevos have already been put forward by Matriarch Betora, as well as a ten rotation mourning period. Many of the Asari's most revered Matriarchs have announced that they will be attending. The funeral is expected to be broadcasted over a number of-"_

 _[THE CROWD BEHIND EMILY SUDDENLY BEGAN TO SHOUT]_

 _"Hold on..."_

 _[THE CAMERA ZOOMS IN ON THE FRONT ENTRANCE OF THE C-SEC BUILDING. THE DOORS OPEN, AND OUT STEPS EXECUTOR PALLIN. IMMEDIATLEY MANY MEMBERS OF THE CROWD, MOST OF THEM ASARI, BEGIN TO HURL INSULTS. SOME DO MORE, RUSHING AT THE EXECUTOR ONLY TO BE PUSHED BACK BY C-SEC OFFICERS.]_

 _"It seems that Executor Pallin has finally decided to give an address. I wonder what he'll say."_

 _[INSTEAD OF SAYING ANYTHING. PALLIN IS ESCORTED INTO AN ARMORED C-SEC TRUCK. AS THE TRUCK TAKES OFF, SOME OF THE CITIZENS HURL ITEMS AT IT ANGRILY.]_

 _"I guess he had nothing to say. Not unlike Councilors Sparatus and Valern, who have not yet made any statements on the situation. Most suspect that they are currently in hiding, given the recent events. Others however, have begun to question if the Council even knows how to react to the current situation. A Citadel Councilor has not been assassinated since-"_

 _[AN OFF SCREEN EXPLOSION IS SUDDENLY HEARD, IMMEDIATELY FOLLOWED BY PANICKED SCREAMS]_

 _"Oh my god!"_

 _[THE CAMERA TURNS TO SHOW THAT THE TRUCK CARRYING PALLIN HAS TURNED INTO A BALL OF FIRE]_

* * *

 **In an undisclosed location...**

Cipher Nine turned off the stream.

"There's one more off the list," the Imperial agent said.

"Looks like at least some Cipher Agents know how to do their jobs," Kaliyo said with a cruel smile.

Stretched out on a couch, satisfied with the chaos the team's efforts had aroused, she looked like a feline who'd just eaten the pet bird. Sitting on the couch next to her feet, Lokin was currently engaged in a tense game of holochess against SCORPIO, who had contented herself with standing. Neither of them seemed interested in Kaliyo's verbal jabs towards their leader.

After they had completed their assigned tasks, each member had returned to their Presidium safehouse, the location of which was known only to a few outside of their team. The single room was not particularly spacious and not luxuriously decorated. But it did contain enough amenities and equipment for them to be comfortable, such as a jamming equipment to keep them hidden, a number of security alarms, and full weapons lockers. More importantly, the safehouse also had the team's only functioning long range transmitter. Without it, the only way for them to contact Imperial command was located on their ship.

"Maybe its time for you to retire Agent," she continued, "now that you're perfect score is ruined. Best to quit before you become a hasbin."

"Though she could put it more delicately, Kaliyo does have a point," Lokin added, though his eyes remained fixed on the board. "The Councilor of the Alliance is not yet dead. A very unlikely outcome considering it was you who was after them Cipher Nine."

"Nobody's perfect," the Agent shrugged, "and besides, the primary objective was accomplished. Chaos and panic are on the rise, just like we wanted. Anderson might not be dead, but he is out of the game. All that's left to lead the Citadel are a paranoid and a warmonger."

"True," Lokin stroked his chin thoughtfully and moved a piece forward. SCORPIO responded immediately by taking that piece, causing the doctor to curse.

"More importantly, our mission here has become complicated. I would have finished Anderson, were it not for the intervention of a Jedi."

A heavy silenced settled inside the safehouse.

 _"What an interesting development,"_ said SCORPIO, speaking for the first time since returning and breaking the silence.

"A Jedi, are you sure?" asked Lokin, turning from the board to look Cipher Nine in the eye.

"Jedi Master Iris Kai swung a lightsaber at me doctor, I'm fairly certain," the Agent replied evenly.

"Damn, been a long time since I blew up a Jedi," quipped Kaliyo. "Are we going after her? There's a bounty on all Jedi right?"

"No," replied Cipher Nine. "First, we need to send a transmission informing the Empire of the Jedi's presence. I wanted to wait until **Cipher Thirteen** returned from her mission so I could inform you all, but we're out of time. We need to send the transmission now and move to our secondary safehouse. The Jedi are no doubt already looking for us."

The Imperial Agent paused briefly to give his team a moment to process everything that he had told them. Then he climbed over Kaliyo and the couch she was laying on, causing her to make a rude gesture. Cipher Nine ignored it and gestured for her and Doctor Lokin to move. They both complied, allowing the agent to move the couch back, revealing rectangular panel beneath. With some assistance from Lokin, Cipiher Nine pried the panel open, revealing the long range transmitter.

"I'm going to get the message out. The rest of you, initiate burn protocols. We don't want a single piece of this place to be found by anyone."

"You mean I finally get to blow this place up too? Nice," Kaliyo nodded appreciatively and immediately set to work.

"I'll get the acid," said Lokin as he moved towards the supply locker. Any weapons or equipment that could not be taken with them would be covered by the acid and rendered useless. More than likely it was an unnecessary step, as most of it would be destroyed by Kaliyo's bomb. But the team had long since learned not to leave things to chances.

 _"I shall begin purging the systems,"_ said SCORPIO.

Cipher Nine booted up the transmitter and prepared to send the message that he had prepared. But before he could do so, the machine's holo-projector suddenly came to life without his input. Unexpectedly, the holographic image of a young and attractive human woman appeared before the Imperial Agent. Though her image was tinged blue, like all holograms, Cipher Nine could see that her jaw length hair was red and matched the color of her midriff baring top.

 _"Hello there Imperial spies!"_ the mystery woman said in a voice that seemed artificially cheerful and exaggerated.

"SCORPIO, run a trace," Cipher Nine ordered calmly. The droid did as instructed and plugged herself into the transmitter's data port. "You two, keep going. It seems we have a breach."

 _"You sure do!"_ said the woman. _"But if it makes you feel better darling, it was a real pickle trying to find my way in. But with just a bit of help from my dear Tharan, I managed to get crack your security encryption, bypass your firewalls, and find my way here."_

"SCORPIO?" It usually only took the droid a few moments to counter any and all cyber intrusions.

 _"Fascinating,"_ the droid's photo receptors narrowed like eyes. _"What are you?"_

 _"I'm Holiday,"_ the woman said with a smile. _"I'm a sentient holographic lifeform. The only in the entirety according to my Tharan, but then he is such a flatterer."_

This day was taking a very strange turn, Cipher Nine decided. He didn't like when he found things strange. He seen enough of the galaxy that just about nothing was strange to him. When things did become strange from him, it usually meant trouble.

 _"But enough about me, let's talk about all of you,"_ Holiday continued. _"Recently, you all did some very very bad things. I have a friend that would like to have a talk with you about that. She should be arriving right about...now."_

With a teeth grinding screech of tearing metal, the door to the saferoom was blown off its hinges. Cipher Nine barely had time to duck and avoid being flattened. SCORPIO on the other hand, had been too distracted by Holiday, and found herself sandwiched between the wall and the door.

Standing in the entry way, illuminated by the light behind her, stood Jedi Master Iris Kai. In one hand she held her activated lightsaber, it's brilliant sky blue blade hummed a dangerous promise. Her other hand was stretched out from using the Force.

At first, nobody moved.

"You get once chance," said Iris Kai, breaking the silence with her stern voice. "Surrender, or I'm taking you down."

Cipher Nine's lips turned into a wry smile. In a flash he drew his pistols.

In that same moment, the Jedi Master leapt forward, her lightsaber swinging toward his neck.

* * *

 **In the Presidium...**

Shepard looked down at Anderson's body.

C-SEC's techs had done a scary job of recreating the Councilor's likeness. If not for the fact that Shepard had been informed that Anderson was indeed alive and well, being given medical treatment in the Black Box, he very well might have believed the body lying before him was Anderson himself. But thanks to Jondum Bau's willingness to share, and the fact that the projection flickered whenever the Commander ran his hand through it, Shepard knew that he was simply looking at a holographic recreation of Anderson at the time when C-SEC found him.

Still, that knowledge didn't make it any easier for Shepard to see his mentor is such a sad state.

"I'll get them for this," he privately promised.

"The Councilor was lucky, damn lucky," said Garrus from behind the commander. "I mean look at this place. Explosion tore it apart."

Shepard nodded and turned to face him. "Nothing short of a miracle."

"Don't know about that," Garrus said as he moved to stand beside the commander. "Look at the residue from the explosion. It covers the whole store, but in this spot there isn't a single scorch mark."

Shepard had noticed the same. Everywhere he looked he could see the effects of some explosive device. Shelves had been shredded and every surface was blackened. But here, where Anderson had been laying, there was nothing. More than that, it almost looked as if the explosion had been turned away from the councilor. The floor at Shepard's feet, bore the same black residue as the rest of the store. But as it neared Anderson's hologram, it gradually curved around him in the shape of a parabola.

"If I had to guess," Shepard began, "I'd say some sort of shield had been placed in front of the councilor, saving him from the blast."

"Agreed," Garrus nodded. "But the question is: how? If it had been a shield that Anderson had been wearing, it would have activated earlier and saved him from the of other injuries that he had taken. Based on that hologram though, it doesn't look like that's the case."

"Maybe some kind of emergency shielding?" Shepard suggested.

"Maybe..." Garrus crossed his arms. "Or maybe something else. Did you see that footprint at the front of the store?"

Shepard frowned. "Footprint?"

Garrus motioned him over towards the front of the store. There, they did indeed find a footprint.

"Human I think," said Garrus. "Too narrow for a Batarian and too wide for an Asari. Humans have...five toes, right?"

"We do," said Shepard as he crouched down to better inspect the print. It was a fairly unremarkable as footprints went. Except for one detail: it had been imprinted **into** the solid tile floor. It almost looked like someone had stomped a foot, hard, into this part of the floor.

"These floors are meant to handle Elcor. I don't know too much about Humans, but I've never met one strong enough to match an Elcor, at least not without biotics. You could do it I think. Jack could probably do it too. But..."

"But not many others," Shepard finished.

"Exactly. Can you tell anything about who it might belong to? I'm a little rusty on my Human anatomy."

"It belongs to a woman," Shepard said almost immediately. "I'd say around 5 foot 8 inches in Human measurements."

Garrus moved his mandibiles in an expression of surprise.

"That was fast," the Turian noted. "Didn't know you knew so much about feet."

"I don't," admitted Shepard. "But when Ash and I...when we were together. I bought her a pair of boots once as a present. It took me forever to find her size and by the end of it, I was pretty familiar with the shape of her foot."

Garrus gave the Turian equivalent of a smirk.

"Not like that," Shepard groaned.

"Hey, what you Humans do in between the sheets is none of this Turian's business."

"Anyway," Shepard began, wishing to changed the subject. "This print, it's a lot like Ash's."

"Alright, so we're looking at a Human woman who is about the same size as Williams. But possibly weighs more than an Elcor, or at the very least can hit like a Krogan on steroids. That's...an interesting image."

"Look at the blast residue," Shepard pointed. It was the shape parabolic shape as the one they had found around Anderson's hologram. "Do you think maybe this belonged to the person who was responsible for the explosion? One of the assassins maybe?

"Not enough evidence to be sure," said Garrus as he took a scan of the footprint with his Omni-tool. At the same moment, Shepard's own Omni-tool began to chime from an incoming call.

Shepard answered and brought up a holographic screen from his forearm.

"This is Shepard."

 _"Commander,"_ Samara greeted. _"As you requested, Kala and I are at the C-SEC morgue."_

 _"What up Shep!"_ Kala called from off screen.

The Asari spectre sounded like she was on some great adventure, as usual. Samara, less so. There was a certain tightness in the Justicar's voice that Shepard would have missed had he not been familiar with her. He began to think that maybe sending Samara to the C-SEC morgue with Kala had been a mistake. The two had a history, one that he wasn't sure of. He had thought before that Samara had simply been surprised by her former pupil's presence. That's why he had put them together, to let them have some time to catch up.

Now though, Shepard wondered if Samara would have preferred to have never seen Kala again. He couldn't imagine why. Did something bad happen between the two?

Now wasn't the time to think about that.

"So what did you find?" he asked.

 _"The chief forensic, Doctor Favarius, can explain better than I,"_ said Samara. The screen shifted to show the face of a female Turian with dark scales and green face paint.

 _"Commander,"_ the Turian greeted him in a surprisingly deep voice. _"It's an honor to meet you and...Vakarian? Is that you?"_

"Hey doc," said Garrus.

 _"You're alive? I heard some officers talking, but I assumed the Terminus was the end for you."_

"Heh, it almost was, but not quite yet. Do have a few new scars though," he gestured to his face. "So you're the lead on this case huh?"

 _"Yeah. Executor Pallin wanted C-SEC's best on this one, so here I am."_

"Then we're in good hands. Why don't you tell the Commander and me what you've found."

 _"Of course. Justicar, if you could please show them the body."_

The image on the screen shifted again as Samara turned her Omni-tool's camera towards a body lying on an operating table. It was dressed in a familiar armor, specifically, the standard battle armor of the mercenary group CAT-6.

Shepard had received a message from C-SEC's Exectuor, Pallin, saying that something relevant to the investigation of the attempt on Anderson's life had turned up. Wanting to look at the site of the attack personally, he had asked Samara and Kala to go in his stead. Now though, he was wishing he had chosen to go personally.

Despite the carnage he and Garrus had found, they had not found a single body. They had found plenty of blood, but nothing else. It had been clear that someone had taken the time to sweep their tracks.

But apparently they hadn't done as good of a job as they had hoped.

 _"Subject is a Human male. Age 35 standard years. In good physical health. X-rays show several old wounds that are likely irrelevant to his death. I'm told that you are already familiar with this uniform,"_ said Favarius.

"Yeah, you could say that," Shepard responded.

 _"Then I shall skip to something more interesting. Justicar, if you could move a bit closer?"_ Samara did as asked, zooming her camera in to focus on the dead mercenary's chest plate. Shepard immediately spotted the hole that had been punched through the merc's chest.

 _"The wound is completely cauterized and reaches all the way through,"_ he heard Favarius say. _"It's incredibly clean, the cleanest I've ever seen. But some of the armor surrounding the wound was partially melted, indicating extreme levels of heat. The scorch marks around the hole seem to confirm that. If I had to guess, he was hit by-"_

"An energy beam," Shepard finished.

 _"Yes. You've seen a wound like this before?"_ asked Favarius, catch the graveness in Shepard's voice.

"Unfortunately, yes." Recently too, Shepard thought bitterly. The wound on the mercenary was nearly identical to the one that had recently taken Jacob's life. "It's a wound inflicted by a...laser sword."

 _"I beg your pardon?"_

"It sounds ridiculous, I know," said Garrus. "But I swear on the spirits of Palaven doc, it's true. The weapon that did that is blade of pure energy."

A moment of silence followed as Shepard guessed, Favarius and Kala tried to process what Garrus had told them. Predictably though, Kala did not stay silent for very long.

 _"Cool,"_ said the Asari Spectre. Off screen, Samara must have given her former pupil a scolding look. _"I mean...if it weren't being used by the enemy to kill our friends and loved ones."_

Shepard suppressed an amused smile. "Anything else you can tell us?"

 _"Only that every bone in his body is shattered. I'm guessing it had something to do with the fall he took."_

"Fall?" asked Garrus.

 _"Ah that's right, I forgot to tell you. The officers who found the body had to peel him off the hood of some poor fledgling's aircar. Shame too, it was a nice car. But the fall this one took was hard enough to leave decent dent."_

"Can you tell if it happened before or after he died?" asked Shepard.

 _"Definitely after,"_ replied Favarius.

Shepard shared a look with Garrus. "I guess now we know how they cleaned the place up so quickly. They just threw the bodies over the side of the street."

"Must have been in a big hurry," said Garrus. "It was a rush job. They needed to get out of there before anyone else showed up."

"Then question then is: who are _they_?" asked Shepard.

 _"I concur,"_ said Samara, still off screen. _"As far as we know, only The Wrath has ever wielded such a weapon. Yet it is not hard to believe that others might. Had the victim been anyone else, it would be easy to conclude that the wielder was one of the enemy. Instead, one who is the enemy bares the wound. Your question is therefore indeed important Commander. Who are they?"_

Garrus thoughtfully scratched his cheek. "I'm not so sure we should throw out the possibility that this wasn't just friendly fire. But yeah, Samara is right. There is a possibility there is a third party involved. Maybe even a potential ally."

"We need more intel," said Shepard, "and we need to find it fast. Before something else-"

The commander's omni-tool chirped as another call requested his attention. He checked the caller's ID, it was EDI.

"Stay on the line Samara," he ordered. Then he switched lines and answered the second call. "EDI? What's going on? Has something happened?"

 _"I am afraid so commander. Approximately 10 minutes ago, Executor Pallin was killed."_

"Killed?! What?! How?!" Garrus demanded.

 _"Reports say that the Executor had chosen to leave the C-SEC offices by armor aircar. As they lifted off, the aircar was destroyed."_ Before anymore questions could be asked, EDI sent a clip to Shepard's Omni-tool, showing them the event as seen through the CNN live stream.

"Spirits preserve us," Garrus whispered. "I can't believe...it's just...right in the middle of the Citadel?"

Shepard stayed silent but agreed with his friend's sentiment. First two Citadel Councilors, and now the head of C-SEC. Was anyone safe? As he watched the footage of the Executor's aircar exploding again, Shepard decided that the answer was a resound: no. No one was safe now. Not until he found the bastards responsible and put a bullet in their heads.

 _"There is more,"_ said EDI.

"More? What else could have happened in the past 10 minutes?" asked Shepard, even as he dreaded the answer.

 _"The Alliance Embassy on the Citadel has been attacked. Reports indicate that the attackers, wielded glowing swords."_

* * *

 **AN:**

 **Alright, so yeah, it's been somewhere around 8 months.**

 **And for such a long time with nothing to show, this chapter is abysmally short. I apologize, I really do. Honestly though, I just haven't felt like writing anything for a very long time. I needed a break from everything. It wasn't like I just sat on my hands the whole time though, I did put down the outline for this chapter and a lot of stuff to come. It's just that it took forever for me to finally sit down and put it all into words.**

 **This chapter was originally going to be much longer, but given that I've been on hiatus for so long, I thought it more important to give you guys something to read. The rest of the chapter will hopefully be released soon, depends on how badly Darth Real Life decides to fuck with me.**

 **But until then, I hope that you enjoyed what I managed to give you.**

 **Thanks for sticking with me.**


End file.
